Bringing Out the Blue
by maguena1
Summary: AU.  The arrow injured the Blue Spirit instead of knocking him out, and Aang never found out his identity.  Zuko made a Plan to find out more about the Avatar.  He didn't expect so many truths to come from the lies.
1. Inspiration

Author: Maguena

Title: Bringing Out the Blue

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or any of the dialogue from the series.

Summary: AU. The arrow injured the Blue Spirit instead of knocking him out, and Aang never found out his identity. Zuko made a Plan – to use the disguise to improve his chances of capturing the Avatar. He didn't expect so many truths to come through the lies. As Zuko struggles with the way that the Avatar and his companions are nothing like he expected, all their destinies begin to change subtly. (All pairings are canon, but most of this fic does not focus on romance.)

A/N: Unbetaed, and this is a rather experimental fic for me. I would love to hear your criticism on how I did.

**Bringing Out the Blue**

**Chapter One**

One careful step after another, Zuko backed away from the fortress. His arms were starting to burn with the effort of holding his swords close enough to the Avatar's neck to be a threat without actually cutting the boy's throat. The loose hair beneath his hood itched unmercifully at his sweaty neck. The woods had seemed so close to the wall when he'd come, and now they seemed hopelessly far behind him. He couldn't even turn to look.

At least his "prisoner" was still stunned into not resisting. After they gained the relative safety of the woods, he'd need to make the imprisonment real, and his only good rope had been sliced down somewhere inside the fortress walls. The difficulties in keeping hold of an airbender – a _creative_ airbender – were starting to din more and more loudly in Zuko's mind. Even if he still had his rope, would it work? It hadn't been enough aboard his ship, when the Avatar had been surrounded. Zuko might have learned a thing or two from Ty Lee, but it was exactly enough to let him know that he didn't have Ty Lee's skill, or a tenth of her knowledge of the human body. Grimly he pushed those thoughts aside. He'd get to the forest first, and then he'd think of something.

Another step back, into a pothole. The stumble nearly made him lose his concentration – and probably saved his life, because when his head snapped back involuntarily, he saw it.

_Too close; can't move the swords quickly enough to block the arrow without cutting the Avatar's neck. _The decision wasn't even a thought. He threw himself forward, making sure the Avatar's body was well-shielded. He was almost quick enough to avoid the arrow entirely.

All that training. It did pay off at the oddest moments.

Beneath him, the boy started kicking and squirming; each movement sent flares of dull pain through Zuko's body. Dust swirled around them. Did the boy _want_ to be impaled? Zuko carefully slid the swords out from underneath the both of them, noting distantly that his left arm would not obey him very well, and rolled to the side after a quick glance to make sure no more arrows were coming. They weren't, but even from here, he could hear the groan of the gates and the sound of soldiers rushing out.

Kneeling first, then pulling himself painfully to his feet, Zuko gestured urgently with his right sword – pointing at the soldiers, then at the forest. The boy's eyes went very wide. "You – really weren't trying to kill me?" Zuko rolled his eyes behind his mask and gestured again – no time for small talk. He started moving himself, hoping the boy still had enough sense to follow, and why was walking so difficult all of a sudden?

"You," he heard the Avatar babble, "you have… oh, Spirits… Hang on!"

The Avatar gave him an oddly determined look and turned back. Zuko contemplated hauling the boy off by his collar again, but stilled when he saw the Avatar's hands move. A thick cloud of dust boiled up between them and their attackers, hiding them, giving them time to get away.

The Avatar finished bending and leapt over beside Zuko; suddenly too close, he pushed himself underneath Zuko's right arm and grabbed _Zuko's_ collar. Then they were moving, far faster than ought to be possible. Muzzily, Zuko realized that his body was being lifted and supported on nothing more than air – air which was steady and solid, right now, even as the wind and the tree branches whipped around them.

Some time later, he was lowered gently to the ground, onto his right side. "I think we're safe here," the Avatar spoke in quick huffs of breath and his fingers danced nervously, "and I'm not good at this kind of thing, Katara might know, but Katara is sick herself right now, and we need to get this arrow out now."

Arrow? What – oh, he did get hit. Now that the battle rush was fading and he was not moving, he began to understand that he was in trouble. He couldn't quite tell how bad the injury was – there weren't a lot of nerves still working on the upper left side of his back, though at least it hadn't scarred the way his face did. There was a dull throbbing, though, with some blood loss, quite likely. He tried to reach around with his good arm, but couldn't find it. "Easy, easy," came a voice, and a second later he was in agony.

Yes, training paid off, both his official and his unofficial training. When he could think again, his right hand was already clenched around the Avatar's, having just prevented the idiot from yanking the arrow out backwards. At least he could tell where it hit now. It entered sideways, just above the armpit, and skimmed over the shoulderblade in a slightly downward direction. He was lucky it stopped halfway before the spine. Not so lucky that it hadn't exited on its own.

He propped himself up a bit despite the alarmed noises behind him. Swords still with him, good. Aiming carefully, he lopped off the feathered end, then slumped again. He would never be able to do the next part on his own. The Avatar didn't know how. Zuko couldn't speak without giving himself away, and he had no illusions about what would happen if he tried that. Uncle… was far away, and how would Zuko ever explain this?

"Are you okay? Please, please, be okay."

The moon finally came out from behind the clouds. They were in a clearing of some sort, by the side of a small stream. Zuko was good at improvising.

He picked up a twig, swept away dead leaves, and started drawing in the dirt. Simple, lopsided pictures, because even his right hand wasn't entirely steady. An outline of an arm and shoulder, with an arrow through them. Hand pressed down just beside where the arrow needed to exit, pulling the skin taut. Another picture, of the arrow halfway out in the proper direction. Arm and shoulder with puncture marks, and as he started drawing bandages over the wound, the Avatar exclaimed that now he understood, and Zuko dropped the twig.

"Sorry, sorry…"

It hurt a lot, but it was over quickly. Zuko lay there and just breathed. Eventually, he had to stir, because the Avatar made no move to make a bandage. Yes, okay, putting on a bandage would reveal his Fire Nation-pale skin… Improvising again, Zuko turned so that he was half-propped-up by the trunk of a tree and more importantly, did not provide a clear view of his back. He reached with his good arm and pretended to press hard, but what he really did was to surreptitiously cauterize the wounds. He couldn't quite reach the exit wound, so he had to wait for the Avatar to look away at the moment of the flash. The next part was harder, against his nature, but he drew the warmth from around the injury into his hands and sent it elsewhere in the body. The icy chill was unpleasant, but the numbing was good, and it should have slowed or stopped the bleeding. All right. All right now.

"Are you feeling any better? Only I still have to help my friends – they're sick, and I need to capture some frogs for them, and I can't leave them for too long, but I can't leave you either. Can you walk again?"

Except it was not all right, because he was further than ever from capturing the Avatar. Okay, so he still had the element of surprise, and the boy trusted him for the moment. He sighed as he realized it wouldn't be enough in his current state.

"Was that a yes sigh or a no sigh? I guess you really can't talk. You didn't even make much sound when you were hurt! Is that why you're wearing that mask? Something happened to your mouth and you don't want people to see? It's okay, you know. You saved me – I'm not going to be bothered by any old injury you have."

Zuko shook his head, bleakly amused by the Avatar's cluelessness. Something bothered him, here. It was his destiny to capture the Avatar and regain his honor. What honor was there in betraying a trust, however unwittingly earned? Even if he might excuse it under the defense of doing what had to be done, there was that other thing the Avatar kept repeating. He had sick friends – the two he travelled with, surely – and if Zuko captured him now, he would be essentially condemning two people who just happened to be in the way.

Maybe it wasn't a bad sickness? Perhaps they would recover on their own? After all, the Avatar also kept babbling about frogs. It could be the shock of being imprisoned.

Holding up a hand to stop the Avatar's rambling, he searched for another twig and smoothed over his previous drawings. In the dirt, he scratched out words for the Avatar to read. His former teachers would be disappointed by his poor calligraphy, but the kanji came out relatively legible. The Avatar leaned over, squinting in the dim light.

"I'll be fine now. What kind of sickness do your friends have?" he wrote.

The explanation gushed forth and Zuko was startled by the odd note of – pleading? – in the Avatar's voice. He sounded more like a child than ever – a child expecting his parents to make everything all right. At least Zuko finally understood about the blasted frogs. The Avatar finished and looked up with hope in his eyes. He _was_ a child, alone, with nothing to go on but the advice of a quite possibly insane healer who recommended _frogs_. Anything that produced fever high enough for hallucinations was dangerous.

Zuko's bursts of inspiration had always been exhilarating. Perhaps that was why he didn't like to think things through. He now had the beginnings of a plan, and while many details weren't clear yet, he knew how to begin. "Not sure about frogs," he wrote. "I have some medicine, but need time to get it. Need rest, too. Meet here this evening if frogs don't work."

Once the Avatar puzzled out the message, his face split into the broadest grin Zuko has ever seen – and yes, he counted Uncle. "Thank you!" he cried, then threw his arms around Zuko, who was shocked into stillness.

The Avatar. Hugged him.

Though he did let go quickly. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking about how you're still injured. I really, really owe you. Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Zuko did a whole body pantomime of annoyance at such unearned doubt, complete with throwing his hands to the sky. The Avatar smiled. "I guess you really are okay, then. What is your name? I'm Aang."

Zuko tapped the mask. The Blue Spirit was a minor, but still well-known stock character in the old-style wordless operas – the Avatar ought to recognize it better than anyone else living.

"Masked Man?" the boy said, as if he couldn't quite approve. Zuko shook his head, because it did sound silly. "Blue Spirit?" he guessed with the same tone of voice. Zuko nodded. "Uh, surely that's not what your parents named you?"

Zuko couldn't help it – he shook with laughter, remembering at the last second to make it silent, which only amplified the force of it. No, it certainly wasn't what his parents named him, and oh, the sheer absurdity of imagining it for a moment! Even Azula would have a difficult time making an unpleasant nickname out of that. Picking up the twig again, he wrote the first name to come to mind.

The Avatar was confused by this reaction, but soon started smiling too. "Lee? Well, I can see why you might want a more unusual name, then!" Sobering up a little, he drew himself up, then bowed with deep respect. "Thank you, Blue Spirit Lee, for everything you've done for me. I have to go now, but I'll come meet you this evening!" Just like that, he was off, speeding through the trees.

Zuko hauled himself up and started walking downstream, pausing only to drink water and renew the cooling of the injury every few minutes. The plan started to come together in his mind. All the while he'd been chasing the Avatar, the worst part had been trying to figure out where to search next. Even worse had been the sensation that he could _almost_ see the pattern. The Avatar was headed north, for all his zigzagging, but "north" was a large area when it encompassed the distance between Omashu and Avatar Roku's temple. All Zuko had was a ship, so on land, he was restricted, while the Avatar could simply fly over obstacles.

Zuko had read everything he could get his hands on about the extinct Air Nomads, but that was not enough to predict the movements of one particular member. What sites are important to the Avatar? What is his specific destination? How does he think, how does he evade? These questions were all hard to answer, and the Avatar would not reveal the answer to an enemy. But if the Avatar saw merely a fellow-traveler, one to whom he felt obligated, then he might let things slip. Once Zuko knew where to go, he would be able to race ahead and prepare. Then he'd capture the Avatar, cleanly.

It wasn't far to the shore, and once he got there, it was simple enough to find his boat. Scrubbing off the blood and changing clothes was an exercise in frustration, but he managed. The pressure of his chest armor on the wound was outweighed by the bracing it provided to the muscles, not to mention that it was easier to draw heat out of leather and have it stay cold than out of living flesh. He viewed his black shirt sadly – ripped by the arrow and stiff with blood – and wondered if he had the skill to salvage it. Sighing, he left it soaking in a basin of seawater. The little boat slipped into the water and he hugged the shore as he headed back to the ship. There was a reason they hadn't docked, a reason his uncle let him go alone to scout despite obvious misgivings, a reason why all the Fire Nation soldiers stayed safe in their stronghold here – it wasn't a conquered area yet. One person could slip through, or an army. Several would be caught and slaughtered.

On board, he brushed Uncle's worried inquiry aside by insisting he was headed for bed. However, once inside the ship's tower, he headed all the way up to the navigation and control room. "Lieutenant Jee, I need to speak with you." Jee rose silently and followed him out. It was hard to imagine the dour lieutenant singing a "stirring love song."

Once inside his room, Zuko closed the door firmly. "You're the one who treats all the minor injuries aboard, aren't you?" he said to Jee.

"Yes," the man replied, puzzled. "I have some skill with battlefield medicine, but no more than that."

Zuko took his stash of medical supplies out of his chest. "Good. Then you can help me." He drew himself to his full height, trying to intimidate. "My uncle _does not_ need to know about this. Understand?"

Jee did not look too intimidated. "Why's that?" He was already moving to help Zuko take off the armor, observing the stiffness of Zuko's left arm and clearly drawing conclusions.

Zuko blew out a smoking breath and tried to get ahold of his temper. "Because," he grated, "it's just a small injury, but he will worry needlessly about it. I wouldn't even bother you about it, if I could reach everything myself." He slid off his shirt and turned so that Jee could see.

Jee's voice sounded mildly impressed. "Looks like you did a good job of patching yourself already. Arrow?"

"Yes."

Jee pressed his fingers lightly around the injury, testing. "You've been keeping it cool? That'll help with the swelling, but I think you overdid it. Try very gentle heat for the next while," Jee put his hand over the line the arrow followed and demonstrated, "and cool it only if it starts getting severely inflamed, or it might heal wrong. You won't be able to use your arm well for at least a week, anyway."

"Could have been worse."

"Could have been," Jee agreed, as he started rubbing ointment into Zuko's shoulder with careful fingers. The smell nauseated Zuko with memories, but the stuff worked miracles, unless the injury was too deep, or too old. "You probably won't even have a scar to show for it. General Iroh is an observant man, though."

Zuko turned his head as much as he could to glare. "He is. He still doesn't need to hear it from you."

Jee sighed. "He _would_ worry needlessly. You're right, Prince Zuko."

"_Thank_ you."

Jee ignored the sarcasm and worked silently. His fingers moved with surety, stretching and straightening the muscles, making sure that they didn't freeze into their current position as they healed. Zuko hadn't realized Jee knew that much battlefield medicine and was grateful for his good fortune. It didn't take long before Jee finished and wrapped a supportive bandage around his chest and shoulder. Zuko paid careful attention; with his luck, the knowledge would prove useful.

"Try not to move your arm around too much for the next two days, but don't hold it stiffly. The ointment needs to be reapplied once a day, so come find me tomorrow. After two days, you'll be able to keep it stretched and limber on your own."

Zuko nodded and walked over to sit on his bed, exhaustion overwhelming him suddenly. He rubbed his hands over his face. "Thank you, Lieutenant," he said, his voice softer than he meant to make it. "If I don't wake up in time for dinner, knock on the door, would you?"

One corner of Jee's mouth curved a bit. "I assume General Iroh doesn't need to know about that, either?"

"You assume right," he said through a yawn.

Jee put the supplies back in the chest (good thinking, what if Uncle looked in to check on him?), gave a brief bow as goodbye, and left. Zuko dropped onto his right side, drew up the blankets so that the bandages wouldn't show, and fell asleep in moments.

* * *

><p>Outside the door, Jee snorted quietly to himself. Three days ago, he'd been ready to wring the boy's neck and gladly go to his court martial. Three days ago, he would have been sure that the spoiled prince was only hiding the injury for his own benefit, to avoid a yelling perhaps, but now he was inclined to believe that true concern for sparing an old man's feelings was behind it. Now, he found himself feeling all sym-pa-thetic, and regretting already that the young prince would not be able to protect General Iroh from knowing. It'd be obvious the moment the boy started training, and if he didn't train, it would be even more obvious. Jee found himself thinking, even, whether he could do anything to delay that moment, as he climbed the stairs up.<p>

* * *

><p>Sokka had swished out his mouth five times, but he would swear – and did, loudly – that he could still taste the frog. Soon, however, he found out that the frogs weren't the worst of it.<p>

"What took you so long, Aang?" asked Katara as she built up the fire. The fever had passed, but they were both still coughing, so Katara was making tea.

"Well, um… I kinda got caught," Aang rubbed his neck in embarrassment.

Sokka didn't even need to yell – Katara handled that part for him perfectly.

Aang tried to make light of things, as usual. "Well, there were these archers, and they pinned me down with arrows and put me in a net. They took me to a Fire Nation fortress, but it's fine, I escaped! There was this guy who helped me – we're going to go meet him this evening."

Sokka's eyes narrowed. "Wait a moment. Some guy just conveniently shows up to rescue you from Angry Jerk, and that doesn't seem the least bit suspicious to you?"

Aang actually paused at that, but then shook his head determinedly. "You weren't there, Sokka. The way he fought, I think he really just wanted to help me. He got hit by an arrow protecting me, you know."

"No, I _don't_ know. Why don't you start from the beginning?"

So Aang did. Sokka rubbed his chin in thought. While there had been no sign of the Angry Jerk, the description of the guy who came to gloat matched that Zhao guy they'd seen at Roku's Temple, so they were probably working together. On the other hand, this Zhao had chained up the Angry Jerk at the temple, so maybe not. The few things Aang mentioned about what Zhao said gave him the creeps – Aang and Katara too, as they had all huddled up together at that point in the story. Even the tea didn't make him feel much warmer, but he held on to his cup and continued to listen.

"So then, I heard sounds of fighting outside, and when it stopped, the door opened. Then I was really scared, because I didn't know I was being rescued, and he looked like he was going to kill me. He had black clothes on, and a mask, and came in swinging his swords, but all he did was cut my chains off from me, and then the shackles."

"He had swords sharp enough to cut metal?" Sokka couldn't help interjecting.

"Yeah. I found out later he can't talk, but at the time, the way he wouldn't speak was eerie."

It was Katara's turn to interrupt. "Can't talk, or won't?"

"I'm pretty sure he can't," explained Aang. "Even when he was hurt, he didn't scream, and the only sounds I've heard him make were soft, wordless ones. When we got out, he communicated by drawing pictures and writing. His name's Lee, by the way, but he prefers Blue Spirit, after the mask. He wouldn't take it off because it was pretty bad underneath, and I think whatever happened to his face also made him unable to speak."

"Great, so we've got a mute swordsman who goes around rescuing Avatars in his spare time. Lee, huh? How do we know it's his real name? Anyone can call themselves Lee."

Aang gave him a look and continued on with the story. Sokka had to admit it was impressive, and it sounded like the Fire Nation didn't have much love for the guy. However, threatening Aang? That was just not on.

"He only did it after Zhao ordered the soldiers to take me alive, and it did get them to open the gate," Aang defended his new buddy.

Sokka just waved his hand for Aang to go on. He was reserving judgment. Aang told them of the near-miss with the arrow, and having to get it out later, and the agreement with the stranger. The offer of medicine did sound good, because even the tea had not soothed the scratchiness in his throat. A lot of the details still bugged him, though, and he knew they needed to remain wary.

"I think," he announced, "we should go there early. Make sure there's not an ambush being set up for us."

Aang looked ready to protest, but Katara, who had been listening quietly, unexpectedly threw in with Sokka. "Aang, I agree, he sounds like a good guy, but we don't know anything about him. We should be careful."

When they arrived, however, the clearing was empty except for the remains of the arrow. Sokka checked out the tracks, but they didn't tell him anything new, aside from the direction in which this Lee guy had left, and that he'd lost surprisingly little blood. They set up another small campfire and settled around it to wait, telling stories to pass the time.

About an hour after darkness fell, someone stepped out suddenly from the shadows. Sokka yelped and flailed his club around. How did he not hear the guy arrive? But Aang was scrambling to his feet and running over excitedly. "Lee! You came!"

The masked figure bowed in greeting, but then tapped at his mask. "Sorry," Aang immediately said, "Blue Spirit Lee. These are my friends, Katara and Sokka, and this is Momo," he gestured to each of them in turn. They had left Appa at a distance, to avoid the attention of those archers.

Sokka and Katara each received a bow and stood to return the gesture, but the formality of the moment was spoiled by Momo, who leapt atop the stranger's shoulders with a loud screech. He staggered a bit in surprise, then straightened and gently detached Momo from around his head. Cradling the lemur in the crook of one arm, he petted Momo's head awkwardly, apparently unsure of what to do with the handful. Momo chittered in annoyance, but accepted the petting.

Aang came to the rescue, taking Momo out of the stranger's hands. "It's all right; he's just being friendly in his own way." Momo let out a screech that sounded like disagreement and climbed atop Aang's head, where he sat upright like a small guard.

The stranger tilted his head at Momo, then held out his arms palms up. Momo leaned over to sniff at him, once, twice, and sat back again, apparently satisfied. With a shrug, the stranger extracted a pouch from somewhere inside his clothing and held it as if offering it to the trio, his head tilted inquisitively.

Katara stepped up to take the offering and Sokka tensed, but the guy didn't attack. Katara's eyes widened as she looked inside the pouch. "Wow, there are so many useful herbs in here! Thank you, ah, Blue Spirit Lee. We're much better now, but still coughing – you don't mind if we take a few things from here, do you?"

The masked guy shook his head a little and made a gesture clearly indicating "Hey, why else did I bring it?" Katara sat down and began digging through the pouch happily, but Sokka kept watching their guest, who still stood in the place where he'd first appeared. At that height, he could either be a tall teenager or a young adult. His swords were slung over the wrong shoulder, probably because the other one still hurt. Even standing still, he seemed poised for flight. Something about him niggled at Sokka's mind, but he couldn't figure out what it was. It took him no more than a second to notice Sokka watching. He returned the stare, which, with that mask on, was a bit disturbing.

Sokka decided to get right down to it. "So hey, Blue Spirit guy," he made sure to snort a bit at the name, "do you often wind up rescuing strangers, or did you just happen to make an exception for Aang here?"

The guy twitched, then approached the fire. He certainly moved like a fighter, and his footsteps were nearly soundless even on the carpet of dry leaves. Sokka wished he could see him in action – that would tell him a lot more. After sitting down on Sokka's left, the guy found a stick and began to write, his movements a bit jerky.

"Hey, what's he saying?" Katara interjected, and Aang plopped down on Sokka's other side.

Sokka read out loud as the characters quickly formed. "I saw five elite archers carrying one child in a net into the stronghold. So I investigated. I heard them talking about what they would do, and I didn't want it to happen."

"We're very glad you got Aang out of there," Katara interjected, and Aang nodded his complete agreement.

"And I'm not saying we aren't!" Sokka exclaimed. "But remember what happened with Jet?"

Katara and Aang both looked down at that. The guy tilted his head inquisitively, but when no one provided an explanation, started writing again. "I understand that you need to be cautious," Sokka read. "Well, you don't have to tell me! Seriously, are you one of those guys who just goes around doing good deeds, or what?"

Aang spoke up unexpectedly. "In legends, the Blue Spirit would often appear to people in trouble, like separated lovers, and help them out."

The guy laughed soundlessly for a moment, then wrote, "You're not separated from someone, I hope? I'm not taking my persona that far. No, I usually just survive and stay out of trouble."

"Then why help Aang?" asked Katara.

The guy sat still for long moments, but finally started writing again, very slowly. "I know what the Fire Nation can do to children," Sokka read out, and had to stop to catch his breath against the horrible images that had been plaguing him ever since Aang had so blithely announced that he'd been captured. Blue Spirit looked up at Aang suddenly, holding his gaze for several seconds, before adding to what he'd written, "You're about the age I was."

Katara moved around the fire to put her hand on Blue's shoulder, but he jerked away, even scrabbling backwards a bit before going still again. "I'm sorry," she said, "does it still hurt? I can make you some tea from that painkilling mixture you brought."

He shook his head vigorously and started writing again, "There was already an injury there. I don't feel much in that shoulder."

She reached out again, and again, he jerked away. This time, he thrust his hands straight out at Katara in a warding off gesture, then shook his head.

"I get it, don't touch," she sighed. He nodded stiffly.

"I just wanted to help," she explained. He said nothing.

"What happened to you?" asked Aang softly.

The guy's hands jerked in a sharp gesture of negation. If he thought that would save him, however, he was sadly mistaken. Sokka knew just how persistent both his sister and his friend could be when they were curious.

"You don't have to tell us everything," Aang reasoned after a few minutes of prodding. "We would just like to know at least a little of what you went through."

Blue tensed so much that Sokka's muscles started twanging in sympathy. He dropped his head until his mask nearly touched his knees, but then sighed audibly. With obvious reluctance, he wrote, "There were people about to be killed, and I opened my stupid mouth thinking I could say something to change that. I was wrong."

"And so they made sure you couldn't speak," Katara whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Blue shook his head, pretending indifference, but everyone could see his hands trembling a bit. "They died anyway. Why are you sorry?"

"Don't talk like it didn't matter!" Katara blazed. "Even if you couldn't protect them, you still stood up for those guys. That counts, no matter what. And you're alive, and you're doing good, so don't let anyone convince you otherwise."

Blue stared at her, in what must have been disbelief.

"You don't even know how much good you did just now, do you? Aang is the Avatar, and he'll be able to stop the war."

Blue didn't react at first, then kinda shook himself and looked over to Aang slowly. Sokka imagined that behind the mask, his eyes were wide with surprise.

"Well," he wrote after a pause, "that would explain the five men and the massive chains. What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Don't answer that," Sokka cut in before either of his friends could reveal any more of their secrets.

Blue shrugged.

"Sokka!" Katara exclaimed, then turned to explain, "My brother is just paranoid sometimes."

"Otherwise known as reasonably cautious," wrote Blue.

"See? Even the strange guy in a mask agrees with me," Sokka proclaimed smugly.

"Sokka, do you really think a Fire Nation spy would choose a mask in Water Tribe colors?"

"Maybe that's exactly what he wants you to think!"

Blue threw up his arms in exasperation and stood up. He bowed and started walking away.

"No, don't go!" Katara called. He stopped, but didn't turn around.

* * *

><p>Zuko wasn't sure anymore that he wanted to do this. It would be one thing to use his skills for careful drawing out of information, but these children were way too trusting. Sokka was the only halfway reasonable one amongst them, but it didn't seem like the others were willing to listen to him, and even he thought nothing of revealing their friend's identity as the Avatar. Zuko already knew more than he did when he first came – that the lemur creature was dear to the Avatar, that they were more foolish than he'd thought, that the girl was hotheaded even when not in a dangerous situation, and that despite what he'd previously assumed, there was no clear leader amongst them. That they had no concept of keeping proper watch. He'd leave and then circle around and spy on them. They might talk aloud about their plans even without subtle prompting, and if not, he was no worse off than before. They'd never know, and he wouldn't need to pretend to hate the Fire Nation. That had taken a lot out of him.<p>

Katara's cry made him pause, but didn't really change his decision. However, she came up behind him. "Wait, I need to… ask you something. Yes." Frantically, she dug through the pouch of herbs he'd given her. "I haven't seen this herb before – what's it good for?"

Though it was a blatantly obvious attempt, the person he was pretending to be wouldn't leave without answering. Zuko turned to face her and pulled his sheathed dagger out of his belt. Without unsheathing it, he made a slicing gesture down his forearm, then put the dagger away and mimed spreading a paste across the "wound" and squeezing it shut.

She understood. "It stops bleeding?"

He nodded and turned to leave again, only to find that the Avatar had used the pause to waft himself across the clearing and block his way. "Hey," the boy said awkwardly, "did we offend you?"

He shook his head no.

"Then why are you going?" he persisted.

Zuko sighed again, and reluctantly returned to his writing space. "I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable," he scrawled. He stood up again.

Surprisingly, it was Sokka who spoke next. "It's not you specifically making us uncomfortable. We just can't afford to relax much, you know, what with being chased, and Aang here getting into trouble every five minutes –"

"Hey!" Aang interrupted. "Who was it that insisted on going after Hei Bai despite being warned and got captured in seconds?"

"All right, all of us getting into trouble every five minutes. Katara here even decided to get herself captured deliberately." The girl in question huffed at her brother, but she was smiling a little, too. "The point is, yeah, we're going to be suspicious of anyone, but you've already gone a long way towards proving yourself, and it wouldn't take much more. So don't worry about it, sit down, take a load off."

They all made sounds of agreement and stared at him. Zuko felt distinctly off balance. This was all wrong, and they shouldn't be trying to – what, reassure him? The tension was once again broken by the lemur, who chose that moment to leap onto his shoulders again. The creature's paws dug into his muscles as it clung to him and sniffed deeply.

"See? Even Momo agrees," the Avatar said with a smile.

Zuko waved his hand idly and sat. It couldn't hurt to stay a little while longer, just to allay any suspicions they might have. Momo scrambled over the top of his head and jumped into his lap, where it curled up, almost purring. It must have liked the extra warmth of a firebender, Zuko reasoned. Almost unconsciously, he sent more warmth into his fingers and stroked the lemur. It felt oddly nice. The only animals aboard were the komodo rhinos and the occasional messenger hawk, and while Zuko liked both well enough, neither had soft fur.

He was surprised to find the silence around the fire comfortable, and even more surprised to find himself enjoying the need to maneuver around their suspicions when the questioning resumed. Well, he shouldn't be surprised. After all, doing this was far more interesting than the usual "stare at maps, chase rumors, repeat" sequence. _That_ had lost all novelty a long time ago.

"So where are you from?" asked Sokka.

"Shiang La province," he wrote. It was one of those war-torn areas of the Earth Kingdom, rather far away from here, making it difficult to verify.

"That's in the southwest part of the Earth Kingdom, right?" Zuko nodded. "What village?"

"Menxue."

Sokka raised one finger self-importantly. "Aha! Something we can check." He reached into his pack and dug out a map, which he held in such a way that Zuko couldn't get a look. Zuko silently congratulated himself on having the foresight to pick a spot he knew well from both studying maps for years and having been there himself once on his search. "All right, quiz time. You can just nod or shake your head. Is Menxue near mountains?" No. "Near the desert?" No. "Near the coast?" Yes. "Which major river is closest, Wulong, Destri, or Shaodai?" Zuko held up three fingers. "Yep, Shaodai. How many days' walk from Menxue to the river crossing?" One. Sokka squinted at the map. "Looks about right. Now, does the name of the small stream running through Menxue itself begin with Na, On, Yan, Ni, or Nang?" It was Ni Wei, so Zuko held up four fingers, then quickly wrote the name in the dirt.

"All right, that's pretty clear, I'd say," Sokka addressed his companions. "He answered all the questions quickly and correctly. I guess he could have been pretty through in thinking up a cover story for himself, but unless we meet someone from the area, this is about all we can do to verify it."

"Fine by me," Aang said.

"Can we maybe stop the interrogation now?" said Katara irritably. "He's done nothing but help us."

Zuko found himself holding up one hand for her to stop. Seriously, what was wrong with them? If they didn't become more cautious, Zhao would quickly recapture them, and all Zuko's efforts would be for nothing. "You should listen to your brother," he wrote. "Did you already forget what happened today? You need to be quiet and cautious if you hope to get through here alive, and not talk too much to strangers, however helpful."

"But you wouldn't betray us to Zhao!" she argued hotly.

"Not willingly," he wrote. "But I've seen ways of making people talk against their will." Her mouth opened, then closed again, and she looked away and shivered.

"It's all right, Katara," her brother comforted her. "I don't think Blue is planning on getting captured. Are you?" he teased.

Zuko smiled a little beneath the mask as he shook his head no. Katara immediately cheered up.

"So are you an earthbender?" asked Aang.

He shook his head and reached back to tap the hilts.

"Swordsman. Well, I've seen how good you are; I guess you don't need bending to add to it. I was just asking because at some point, I will need to learn earthbending, and I guess it's never too soon to start looking for a teacher."

Zuko kept still with an effort and forced himself just to give a casual nod. The Avatar didn't know all four elements? That explained so much. Zuko thought he was only inexperienced in the elements, since he was so young. It would explain the stolen waterbending scroll. Now that he thought about it, he had never seen the Avatar use either earth- or firebending. Very interesting.

"Weren't you planning on learning from Bumi?" asked Katara.

"Yes, but just as I've learned from you, I figured I could learn the basics of earthbending before officially beginning with Bumi. It would be great to surprise him!" the Avatar grinned gleefully. "Also, Bumi's," Aang paused at Zuko's sharp gestures. "Right, you don't want us to give you details. Anyway, it'll be a while before I master waterbending and we get to Omashu."

He'd guessed right. Even when trying to hide things, the boy gave away all sorts of important details. A person named Bumi in Omashu – did the Avatar mean the king? Zuko tapped his fingers against the mouth of the mask in thought. Here was one way to direct the Avatar's travels. Picking up the map Sokka put aside, he shook it a bit to gain their attention, and wrote, "Earthbenders are mostly rooted to their chosen places. There aren't many wandering ones. You'd probably have more luck searching amongst those who hire themselves as guides, and even they usually stick to one route."

"We met a guy leading people across the Great Divide," Aang confirmed.

Zuko nodded. "Look there. Or, if you start in Omashu, here." He traced the route caravans took between Omashu and Gaoling across the map, and by the alert way Sokka followed his finger, he knew the other boy had memorized it instantly.

"You've been travelling awhile to know this stuff, huh?" asked Sokka.

He nodded.

"Then I guess you would have some ideas on how we could avoid running into Zhao and his merry archers again, wouldn't you?"

He nodded again and with his finger, traced a circle around Pohuai Stronghold. "Patrols all through this area," he wrote. Tracing a bigger circle, he added, "Occasionally they'll go searching as far as that." Pointing at a spot just outside the first circle, he then pointed at the ground on which they sat.

"So we are here," Sokka said, "and the shortest way out of their range is north-north-east. That's about what I figured."

Zuko silently approved Sokka's caution. "Another place to avoid," he wrote, and pointed out a spot up on a mountain overlooking the escape direction. "Fire Nation lookout post." This was getting uncomfortably far into traitorous territory, letting an enemy of the Fire Nation know such secrets, but Zuko consoled himself that the soldiers at the post would just report to Zhao.

"That's really good to know," Sokka enthused. "We keep ourselves low beneath the trees, and they'll never see us!"

"But then what?" asked Katara. "We've got almost no food left, and no money."

Aang came over to peer over Sokka's shoulder at the map. "Looks like there's plenty of villages around here – we should be able to stop at the nearest one and earn some money, or maybe they'll feed us anyhow."

"Yeah, I guess," said Sokka. He didn't sound happy.

Katara was even unhappier. "Sokka, I know I got on your case about getting a job, but it ended up with you nearly dying in a storm and then getting that nasty cold on top of it. I think you've earned a rest."

Zuko's hand closed over his belt, where he kept a small stash for emergencies. He was starting to sweat at just how much aid he was providing to the enemy, but he didn't see that he had a choice. If the Avatar starved to death, Zuko would never be able to go back home. With some reluctance, which he hoped they would take as calculating the amount of money he could spare, he separated out two silver and four copper coins, and tossed them to the Avatar.

The coins fell on the ground as the Avatar stared at him in astonishment instead of catching them. "Lee, wait. You've already done so much to help us; we can't keep imposing on you."

Sokka, who had reached for one silver piece during that little speech, threw a narrow glance back at Zuko. "These are Fire Nation coins," he stated simply, but with a hint of steel in his voice.

Zuko shrugged. "I can always steal more," he wrote.

Sokka grinned at that and pumped a fist in the air, but the Avatar's frown deepened. "Stealing is wrong, and it's dangerous. I thought you weren't planning on getting caught?"

Zuko made a patting motion in the air to soothe him. "I've lived this long. Which one of us got caught, again?"

Sokka snorted and Katara smiled. "He's got you there, Aang," the siblings said in near-chorus.

"But," Aang protested unhappily. Momo woke up and scrambled over to the boy, chittering at him and demanding attention, interrupting whatever Aang had been trying to say. Zuko took his chance.

"It's not much, but it'll get you food at whatever village you reach," he wrote. "After that, I suggest heading for the Abbey here," he pointed it out to Sokka, "because the nuns are always very kind and generous to travelers."

"It only makes sense, Aang," Katara argued. "We're very lucky Blue Spirit Lee was willing to help us; we shouldn't repay his generosity by refusing."

Aang still looked unhappy, but gave in. "I guess, but I came here with the thought that I'd pay you back for your help, and instead I'm just further in your debt."

Zuko shook his head vigorously. The "rescue" didn't count, even if he mustn't explain why. If anything, they'd rescued each other out of the fortress, and then the Avatar provided medical aid, much more valuable than a handful of herbs. By that count, they'd only just gotten even. When Zuko captured the Avatar, he would much prefer not to be beholden to him in any way.

"Hey," Aang brightened, "I know! I've got a flying bison. We can take you anywhere you want to go, much more quickly than you would get there walking. It's the least we can do. What do you say?"

Zuko hadn't expected this. Here was something he could not easily refuse without blowing his cover. Still, he tried. "I was thinking of staying here for a few days to recover," he wrote.

"But it would be much safer for you to recover away from here!" Aang argued.

"I've got a good hiding place," he wrote back.

"Oh yeah? Where?"

Zuko leveled a stare at the Avatar through his mask. "Not safe to tell anyone," he wrote, a bit smugly.

"Hey!" Aang protested, and his face fell.

Quickly, Zuko scribbled down something to reassure him. "The truth is, your help will be useful to me later. So I'm going to rest for now, and I'll catch up to you later. Around the Abbey, perhaps?" The location near the coast made for the perfect capture spot, and if the Avatar by some chance got there first, a reason for him to linger would be invaluable to Zuko.

Aang brightened again. "It's a plan! But why couldn't we help you both now and later?"

Zuko just shook his head, unable to come up with an argument and therefore refusing to argue. "I'm getting hungry," he wrote, "so I'll take my leave now and go get my supper. You should do the same. Good luck to you."

"All right, but we'll meet again," Aang stated. Zuko nodded and stood up. Unexpectedly, the young boy bounded over to hug him. Zuko staggered back, his arms coming up into a defensive stance.

"It's just a hug, okay?" he said impatiently. Zuko shook his head. That was the last thing he needed, to make a habit of being hugged by the Avatar.

"Let him be," Katara defended him unexpectedly. "He's probably not used to being around people so much, and being hugged even less." Zuko nodded his agreement.

"Why not start getting used to it, then?" Aang asked disingenuously.

Sokka shook his head sadly. "He's a warrior, Aang. Why should he get used to all that mushy stuff? Now, this is the way true warriors do it in the Southern Water Tribe." He stood up and thrust his right arm forward. Cautiously, Zuko copied the gesture. Sokka's hand gripped his arm just beneath the elbow. When he saw that that was it, Zuko did the same. Sokka's grip tightened a bit, and he smiled. "Good luck to you, Blue," he said firmly, and released Zuko. Zuko nodded and bowed to each of them in turn, dipping his head particularly low in appreciation to Sokka. They bowed back, and Katara and Aang waved to him until the trees hid him from them.


	2. First Questions

**Chapter 2**

"Well, Sokka?" Katara prodded with a smile, "Still think he's the enemy?"

"It could still be an elaborate trap!" Sokka defended himself. "But we do seem to have lucked out. Blue has been decent so far." Yet he still wondered at a few things that didn't quite fit, though for now he'd keep them to himself. The way Blue moved seemed oddly light for someone from the Earth Kingdom, he was obviously keeping secrets, his weapons were too good for someone from a tiny village, and even scratching in the dirt, he wrote like a scribe rather than like someone who left the village school at around the age of twelve. There could be explanations, of course. A life on the run for the first two things. Stealing for the third. An unusually strict and demanding school teacher for the fourth. Nonetheless…

"Sokka," Aang groaned, "just admit it. Besides, he seemed to like you."

"Well, what's not to like?" Sokka puffed out his chest. "He could obviously tell who the man is around here."

"You, Sokka?" Katara said with all the sarcasm a sister can muster. "Your voice hasn't even finished breaking yet!"

"I'm still the oldest!"

"Doesn't make you the man!"

"Guys!" Aang broke in. "Quit arguing! We should probably think about heading out of here, if Lee is right and patrols go through here at times."

"Right," Sokka declared, and began to gather up his maps. "Let's go back to the temple for the night, get some rest, and head out in the morning."

"And eat, and drink some tea from the herbs Lee left us," Katara added.

"Sounds like a plan," Aang smiled. "Let's go, everybody!"

* * *

><p>As Zuko walked alongside the stream, he felt himself regain alertness. When had he lost it? He'd been very focused during the conversation with the Avatar and his companions… exactly. He wasn't regaining alertness; it was just the usual process of shaking off the last aspects of the Blue Spirit persona, only amplified and drawn out. Like the actors in the many plays he'd attended when his mom had been alive, he'd always needed a few moments to get in and out of character. Even for ordinary uses of the disguise, it was crucial not to allow anyone to recognize the least similarity between himself and the Blue Spirit (a prince shouldn't ever act in a manner that dishonored his station). So he'd worked hard to develop distinctions, and to ingrain them so that they came naturally. Never before had he needed to act it out in such depth and detail, however, so of course it was taking him longer than usual.<p>

The explanation helped; nonetheless, he still felt odd and uneasy. He reasoned that since his plan had worked, and he was not used to his plans working, that was why. He had gained their trust and suggested a place for them to go, where he was almost certain they would arrive. He would ambush them there. It was perfect. But he could still fail.

Perhaps part of what bothered him had to do with the way he now saw the performance from fully his own, proper perspective. He couldn't help reviewing the things he'd said, to make sure he'd said nothing to give himself away. One good thing about having to write things out was that it gave him time to come up with convincing explanations. He knew he wasn't good at lying, so he'd twisted the truth, and presented his actions in the light other people would see most favorably. He'd taken the events of his disgrace and acted as if he'd been injured by those events. It made him feel ashamed, to betray his father and his country even in his thoughts, even for the greater good of capturing the Avatar.

Once he started on that train of thought, he couldn't stop thinking of the girl's words after he'd described the events of his injury. She thought he'd done something honorable. It was an act of utter disrespect, but she told him that it mattered, that he'd been standing up for what was right. Of course, she only said it because she didn't know the truth. He'd been disrespectful. What kind of son does that?

Yet the girl's deluded words felt like they had opened up some wound inside him, and something thick and treacherous was trickling out. He'd been disrespectful. It was the simple truth. He'd spoken impulsively; he hadn't meant it the way it came out, but that was because he hadn't learned his lesson at the time. He should have kept silent. Uncle had warned him ahead of time. No one else had spoken out that day. He'd been wrong.

At the time, though, he had been, foolishly, hopeful. He didn't like to remember that war meeting, but he was lost in memory now. When he'd said what he said, he had truly believed that if he just pointed out the obvious, those soldiers wouldn't have died. He'd been – trying to protect them?

Surely not. It was a selfish, foolish, disrespectful outburst.

He remembered the utter silence after he'd made his little speech. He remembered the way his hopes sank. Even Uncle said nothing. He must have been wrong. Who was he to argue against all those experienced generals?

Zuko clutched his head as he walked, as if to squeeze all those thoughts out. He couldn't think about this. The Avatar and his companions had no right to confuse him like this.

"_I know what the Fire Nation can do to children,"_ he'd written. It was a convenient lie. He knew nothing of the sort. He'd never seen any children hurt, except for a few unfortunate casualties of war. It was just something he'd said because he knew they would believe the worst about his nation, and therefore trust him.

For the first time ever, he could't help wondering what would happen to the Avatar – the child – after Zuko finally captured him and brought him home. The Avatar was dangerous. The whole point of capturing him was not to let him go and wreak havoc.

The Avatar had screamed when Zuko entered the room where he'd been kept in chains. He'd always been bravely determined before. What had Zhao done to him, to make him so afraid?

His father was wise. He'd know what to do. He'd do something, something that would remove the threat without injuring a child, or hanging him in chains again. Just because Zuko couldn't think of a way, that didn't mean his father would be unequal to the task.

His head was starting to pound. He raced the boat back to the ship, more quickly than was safe. He just wanted to fall asleep and not think anymore. Yet inside his room, he just tossed and turned. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. He pulled on his clothes and went to the helm. After ordering the necessary course corrections, he went on deck to exercise. His shoulder still ached, but no one was around to see, this early in the morning, and he needed to work more on firebending with his feet, anyway. By the time Uncle came out, Zuko could truthfully report that he'd practiced enough for the day.

"Have some tea with me, then," Uncle smiled at him.

Zuko was about to refuse, as usual, but hesitated. He didn't want to ask this, but he needed to know, or he might never sleep again. Privacy was rare aboard ship, and tea in Uncle's quarters would be a good way to gain it. He nodded.

Once the cup of hated liquid was in his hands, however, he still didn't know how to begin, and retreated into something safer. "I've found some good leads on where the Avatar is likely to head next, Uncle."

"I'm glad for you, Prince Zuko," he said with a small smile. Then, more seriously, he asked, "Does that mean you won't need to go scouting alone again?"

"No, I am done with that for now," Zuko said. There had been something in his uncle's tone which made him wonder whether Uncle knew more than he was saying, but surely, that was simply the usual tone of worry.

Uncle tapped one finger thoughtfully against the side of his red dragon teapot. "Where will we head, then? Also, aren't you going to drink your tea?"

Zuko took a small sip out of politeness. "We need to swing around the area controlled by Zhao, but after that, I believe we will be able to pick up the Avatar's trail again if we follow the coast. There are two or three locations he is likely to visit. I'll show you on the map later today."

"Well enough," Uncle said as he stroked his beard. "I do hope," he gave Zuko a piercing glance, "that you did not pay too heavy a price for that information."

"Certainly not!" Zuko stiffened defensively.

"I do not mean to insult your skills. You merely look like you haven't had much rest recently, and a man needs his rest."

"So you keep telling me," Zuko grumbled, though his hands rose almost involuntarily to rub at his eyes. "It's fine. I just need to catch up on my sleep, and there'll be plenty of time for that while we are dodging around Zhao's men."

Uncle smiled at him. "I am glad to hear you being so reasonable. Not even you can avoid the consequences of overstretching yourself."

Zuko almost flinched, suddenly reminded of what he'd meant to ask. With his eyes firmly on the surface of liquid in his cup, he said quietly, "Uncle…"

"Yes, Nephew?"

"I… I've been thinking… I know it was wrong of me to speak that day, but..."

"Zuko, what are you talking about?" Uncle prompted gently after the silence stretched a bit too long.

"In the war meeting," Zuko said all in a rush. "You warned me, and I should have listened. I insulted… Just, I still don't know exactly what I said that was so insulting and… wrong."

* * *

><p>Iroh stared at his nephew for a long time after that question, and Zuko dropped his eyes as if he were afraid of the answer. Iroh flung himself from the cushion on which he'd been sitting, knelt next to him, and wrapped his arms around the boy he loved as a son. Zuko almost panicked for a moment before realizing he was being hugged. Iroh rubbed his shoulders with one hand soothingly, frowning privately at the extra layers of cloth he could feel. After some seconds, Zuko finally leaned against him and let it happen.<p>

"You weren't wrong, Zuko. Those soldiers did not deserve to die."

Zuko jerked away at that. "Everybody else said I was being stupid. You didn't say anything, either. So which is it?"

"You weren't wrong," he repeated. "You simply spoke out in a way that did not accomplish your goal of convincing anybody, and after you did so, as a matter of pride, General Huang would not have backed down even in the face of reasoned argument."

"So I made things worse," Zuko whispered.

"It is very likely that nothing would have swayed General Huang from his course," Iroh tried to assure him.

"At least you would have known how to speak to him," Zuko whispered bitterly. "You wouldn't have shown him disrespect."

"As a matter of politics, I wouldn't have, but truly, the man did not deserve respect."

Zuko looked up at that, but his eyes were still troubled. "They would have had a chance."

"Zuko," Iroh said sharply, "you cannot blame yourself for those men's deaths." Even as he said it, he knew that Zuko would not believe him now. Spirits, why did his nephew keep drawing the worst possible conclusion? He had wished a thousand times that he had never brought Zuko into that meeting. At times during their journey, it had taken much willpower not to snap at Zuko for failing to do something so simple as keeping silent. Yet that day had also taught him to be proud of Zuko – not in the way of an adult taking pride in a child's accomplishments, but in the way of taking pride in someone who proved that he would be a powerful ally for the good, when his time came. Didn't Zuko understand that?

Zuko pulled away completely, looking drained.

"Don't blame yourself," Iroh repeated. "You tried your best in a near-hopeless situation. If you could have, you would have saved them. I know it."

Some of that hopeless look faded from his nephew's face. "They still died," he argued softly.

"You were not experienced in the ways of politics. You did not know what would happen. It was a simple, _completely understandable_ mistake." Zuko demanded so much of himself, and then reacted so badly to any suggestion that it wasn't a reasonable way to live, that Iroh had long since learned to do no more than gently hint otherwise, but that didn't mean he wouldn't keep trying at every opportunity.

Zuko nodded, but Iroh suspected it was more a nod of exhaustion than one of agreement. They would speak of it again; Iroh would make sure of that. All these years, and he had never suspected that Zuko did not understand the true nature of the situation. The truth might not be entirely comforting, but it had to be better than whatever nightmares Zuko had conjured for himself.

* * *

><p>The trip was as uneventful as Zuko expected for the first few days, especially once he managed to stop dwelling on the past. However, once they pulled into the first safe village past Pohuai Stronghold, things changed. They'd stopped to reprovision themselves, give the men some rest after the strenuous past two weeks, and listen for the newest rumors of the Avatar. Zuko by this point was getting a bit paranoid. How could he be sure they hadn't recognized him and played him for a fool? Or even exercised some basic caution and refused to follow the directions given by a stranger? Day by day, he grew more afraid that his plan would fail.<p>

The arrival of a strange creature and its rider on his deck, followed by said deck being torn to shreds, was almost a relief, since it gave him something else to think about. The bounty hunter, June, had proven the effectiveness of her methods in a crystal clear manner. The damage to the ship made him grit his teeth, but if it hadn't been her, it would probably be something else. At least this time, it wasn't his fault in any way, and single-minded dedication was something Zuko could respect. Shortly after she left with her captive, Zuko had a new plan. He still had Katara's necklace, Katara would not leave Aang, the shirshu could track Katara by the scent, and it would altogether be a more certain way of finding the Avatar.

Less than twenty minutes later, he, his uncle, and June were in hot pursuit of the trail. The shirshu was an incredibly fast creature, faster even than the Avatar's bison without having the gift of flight. Zuko was less than surprised to see the mountains around Pohuai Stronghold reappear as they travelled, and the herbalist they found in those mountains looked exactly like a woman who had sucked on a frog or two in her life. In a nearby abandoned temple, despite the weird junk strewn around, he could see the ashes of a recent campfire, only partly scattered by the wind as yet.

Their next stop was at a village somewhat far east of the shortest route back to the coast. Silently, Zuko approved – seemed like Sokka had gotten a bit of sense into his companions after all and was trying to confuse the trail. His opinion of the group's evasive skills plummeted again when after leaving, their course headed straight for the Abbey.

Near the eastern side of the Abbey, they actually caught up with their target, only for Zuko to be incredibly frustrated again. These people, who had never before left the Avatar's side, chose _this_ moment to travel without him. Fortunately, the shirshu was able to pick up on the Avatar's scent from a piece of paper the boy carried. With his two prisoners, Zuko arrived right back at the Abbey, just in time to see the Avatar fly in.

The fight there was not something he was proud to remember. How could one little kid be so much trouble to catch? _Zhao_ didn't have this much trouble, and Zhao wasn't exactly the picture of competence. Zuko knew very well that the man's frequent promotions stemmed less from accomplishments and more from his position in the nobility and his ability to tell the Firelord things pleasant to the ear.

The fight ended with Zuko paralyzed by a maddened shirshu's tongue, flat on his back as the Avatar escaped yet again. As soon as the Avatar's group left, Uncle leapt up into a classic firebending stance. "If you let us leave peacefully, no one will come to harm," he announced.

Zuko finally appreciated his uncle's genius in having pretended to be paralyzed, too. If the Avatar had known it was false, then he would surely have done something terrible to incapacitate Uncle, and they would all three be left to the mercy of the nuns. Zuko guessed that the mercy did not extend very far in the case of invaders. This way, the nuns slowly backed away and left them alone in the courtyard.

Zuko watched his uncle standing guard and willed his body to recover movement. What if the nuns realized that even the most skilled firebender could not fight off an endless number of attackers, especially when he had to guard two immobile people at the same time? The longer they stayed here, the higher the danger grew.

Desperation lent inspiration. In one of the many tomes that Zuko had leafed through for ideas in two years of fruitless searching, he had read something about many poisons being destroyed by heat. He also knew that while a high fever weakened the body, it was most dangerous to the mind, and his mind was the one thing that stayed clear. He breathed and built up his inner fire as high as he dared, making sure it did not go past the neck.

Within minutes, the paralysis started fading. Zuko staggered up and over to June as soon as he could, and did the same for her. They were both covered with sweat when it was done, but they could leave quickly and under their own power, and they reeked of perfume, anyway.

Outside the Abbey, a brief but unpleasant argument followed. June argued that she had performed the service she had been hired for, namely, tracking the scent on the necklace. Zuko argued that it was her fault that the shirshu got in the way, and she still owed him for the damage to his ship. Uncle tried to negotiate peace, and the outrageous compliments he gave to June did sort of work in that eventually she declared "Fine, just don't ever hit on me again." She went away in search of her shirshu.

They started back to the ship, a three-hour walk. Zuko brooded all along the way. His plan had failed again, he felt guilty about Uncle spending so much money covering for his mistakes, and Uncle's attempts to interject cheerful comments into his brooding just irritated him more and more, especially once Uncle started hinting broadly that June was a "beautiful young lady" and didn't Zuko wish to run into her again?

Zuko did believe in the "Never give up without a fight" motto on his dagger, though, and decided that there was no harm in carrying through with the original plan of meeting up with the Avatar in his Blue Spirit persona. The one piece of good fortune to come out of today's debacle was a very clear explanation for the "coincidence" of Zuko's appearance at the place that the Blue Spirit had suggested. After all, it was obvious that Zuko had tracked them by scent, not by carelessly spilled secrets. With some additional luck – not that Zuko trusted much to luck – they would tell him their plans again.

He ordered the helmsman to take the ship up the coast, scrubbed the stink of perfume off, and forced himself to sleep in preparation for the night. Assuming he could predict the way in which the Avatar would dodge pursuit after leaving the Abbey (which by now, Zuko had some experience doing) and that the Avatar would spare his bison much exertion after the encounter with the shirshu, then by dusk, the ship would overtake the travelers, Zuko would double back as necessary to pick up their trail, and everything would be fine.

He had a sense of them now; it was the Avatar setting the final goal, but all three of them would have input into where to go exactly, and the needs of any member of their group would be important. The Avatar would change direction frequently and semi-randomly, but otherwise would travel in straight lines, like gusts of wind. Sokka, Zuko guessed, had more of a hunter's manner of coming at his prey from the side; his attempts to dodge would be more like gentle curves from hiding place to hiding place. Katara he still didn't know well enough to predict, but she was a waterbender; she would want to stay close to water. In his mind, he could see these three separate styles like dotted lines of possibility across a map. All he needed to do was figure out the convergence.

In the evening, he packed carefully, to make certain that there was no suggestion of anything Fire Nation about his pack. It would obviously take some time to get the Avatar to let down his guard enough for Zuko to capture him, so he needed to plan accordingly. "I will be gone a few days," he instructed the helmsman. "Go around through the lake and up the canal to North Port. I'll meet you there." For once, that trip would be no slower by land than by water, given that on land, he could just cut straight across the island. If the Avatar was headed to the Northern Water Tribe to seek training, Zuko didn't have much time left. From North Port, it was a clear shot across the ocean to the Tribe's territory, and Zuko knew how a lone Fire Nation ship would be welcomed by the powerful benders of the Tribe. The North Pole was one of the places he hadn't visited in his three years of travelling, for exactly that reason. That, and the way Uncle hinted that he'd found a way inside during the two years he'd spent travelling after Lu Ten's death, and that there had been no sign of the Avatar there.

So what he needed to do was to stick close to the Avatar and work to create a good opportunity for capture. He should figure out innocuous-sounding ways to separate his target from the others for long enough that he could get safely to the ship before the others could catch up. The information necessary to accomplish that would be even harder to draw out without causing suspicion than a plain direction, since there was no obvious question to work towards. Overall, it would be a good idea to delay the Avatar's travels as much as possible.

Uncle was unhappy about Zuko going off by himself again, but it couldn't be helped. He came to see Zuko off, asking whether he had enough food to last him, whether he'd packed warm clothes… Zuko settled into the familiar task of reassuring Uncle that everything would be fine. It was the least he could do, however much he wished Uncle would just trust him already. After their conversation several days ago, Zuko had been avoiding his uncle a bit, uncomfortable with the weakness he'd displayed. This, of course, led to Uncle making even more of a fuss than usual over Zuko's preparations.

Once he finally disembarked, it didn't take long before he found signs of recent passage through the sparse coastal brush, and a bit of white fluff snagged on a bush confirmed it was the Avatar's group. Less than half an hour's walk brought him to a cave – one of the larger caves in these limestone hills, if he remembered correctly. Their small campfire was not visible from the entrance, but he could sense the warmth, and the sound of their voices was loud in the air. Katara was remonstrating with Sokka that he'd already had two bowls of stew, and he needed to leave them all something for breakfast tomorrow. Her voice held hints of scolding, but mostly she was holding back laughter. It was nothing like the way Azula would have laughed. Zuko paused, wondering at the relationship between the siblings. It seemed more affectionate than piercing. He ducked under the low ceiling at the entrance and stepped into the circle of firelight.

As before, they all startled before recognizing him, Sokka in particular. "Maaan! Blue, _why_ do you feel the need to do that? Is it that much fun to scare us?" Sokka stood up and offered his arm in the Southern Water Tribe gesture.

He shook his head in denial, and reached forward to return Sokka's grip firmly, then bowed to the rest of them. They greeted him, sounding pleased to see him again, a fact that Zuko found a bit odd. Even the lemur, Momo, got in on it, leaping atop him again, though it quickly proved to be an excuse for the lemur to try to get into his pack. He must have smelled the food. Figuring that he might as well play nice with the Avatar's pet, Zuko gave him a slice of dried mango, and Momo retreated, chittering happily.

Sokka cast a longing glance in the direction of the eating lemur and sighed, then gestured for Zuko to come sit next to him.

"Want to eat?" Katara offered warmly. He shook his head.

"Hey, buddy! How are you doing? Did you heal up okay?" asked Aang, and Zuko nodded, rotating both arms in a wide circle to show that it was fine.

"Are you sure? We got some very good bargains with your money," insisted Katara. He shook his head again, pointed at his pack, and patted his stomach to indicate that he'd eaten.

"Momo!" Aang yelled suddenly. "That's not yours!" The lemur squeaked and backed away guiltily from Zuko's pack. Zuko reached to give the lemur another mango slice, but Aang stopped him. "Don't fall for it, Blue Spirit Lee, or he'll eat all the fruit you've got."

Sokka dug through his own pack. "Where'd I put it… stupid pack, can never find anything…"

Katara teased, "It would probably work better if you didn't pack your bag while half-asleep."

"Hey, I'm going through a growth spurt! I can't help it if a growing boy needs sleep."

"Wow, you've been having a growth spurt all your life and I never knew? Why aren't you taller than Avatar Kyoshi by now?"

"I may not have her height, but even Suki said I've got a fair bit of her skills! Aha!" Sokka withdrew an object from his pack and thrust it into Zuko's hands. "Got something for you," he grinned widely.

It was a slate, with a rag bundle containing three sticks of chalk atop it.

"Much easier to write on that, yeah? And easier for us to read," said Sokka. They'd expected him to come, and they wanted to make things easier for him. Zuko found it difficult to think about that.

Fortunately, Sokka's next words reminded him of his goal. "First question, then, how did you find us? We didn't exactly tell anyone at the Abbey where we were going."

This was much more comfortable – being interrogated and evading their suspicions. "Yes, they told me at the Abbey there had been some sort of fight. I figured you'd be trying to hide, and I know all the good hiding places along this coast, so I searched for you, and found your trail."

"Trail?" Sokka moaned after he finished reading. "I swept away all the tracks! What did I miss?"

Zuko stared at the other boy. This was his idea of hiding the trail? "The bushes, genius," he started to write, then froze. Why was he giving the enemy tips on evasion? But they were looking at him, so he couldn't erase his words. He quickly added, "They don't have bushes where you're from, do they? It was a simple mistake."

Sokka slapped his forehead. Katara reached across Aang to pat him on the arm in wordless reassurance, and he cheered up a little, but muttered something to himself that sounded like "such an idiot."

"Appa probably won't be back for another hour," Aang said with worry. To Zuko, he added, "Appa's my flying bison. I sent him to find some grass to eat, and he has five stomachs. Those take a while to fill."

"And if you found us, someone else might, too, and Appa's our getaway plan," finished Sokka.

Zuko, who knew perfectly well that their enemy had already found them, patted the hilt of his swords in an attempt at playing his role.

"Yeah, we could've used you earlier if you're half as good as Aang tells us," acknowledged Sokka. "Not much room to swing them in here, though."

Zuko could not resist. With one smooth movement, he unsheathed his weapons and leapt to his feet. The swords hummed their familiar melody around him, flashing in a complicated pattern of attack and defense, never leaving the arm's length mental circle he'd drawn about himself. The tension in his wrists from holding the swords in felt good. Since his creation nearly three years ago, the Blue Spirit had stuck to the shadows, always preferring to spy rather than to fight; good, cautious habits. When it did come to a fight, though, Zuko had always relished the widened eyes, the expressions of reluctant awe, that many people wore on seeing him in action. He saw that now on the faces of the Avatar and his companions, and even if they didn't know it was him, it soothed his pride after the inglorious way in which they'd last seen him.

When he finished, they broke into spontaneous applause. Zuko froze, caught off-guard by their sincere enjoyment. _Move, do something,_ his mind told him, but instead he just plopped back down, entirely ungracefully, and busied himself with sheathing his swords. The mask at least hid the blush on his face.

"Aw, that was great!" Sokka clapped him on the back. What was it with these people and their touching? "We could definitely have used you against Angry Jerk with a Ponytail earlier today."

Not Angry Jerk with a Scar? That was new. Zuko had grown resigned to the scar being the first thing that people noticed about him. What kind of twisty mind did the peasant boy possess, to notice his hair instead?

"Focus, Sokka," Katara chided. "We still need to be on the lookout, and Appa still won't be back for a while. And somehow, I don't think that Zuko will be willing to wait on our convenience to track us down." Zuko found himself impressed at the way that Katara seamlessly assumed the duties of the lookout when Sokka was distracted.

"Yeah, that guy just doesn't give up," Sokka shook his head. To Zuko, he explained, "See, there's this jerk who wants to capture Aang who followed us all the way from the South Pole. That's who we fought earlier today. We kicked his butt, but it was a close thing."

They thought that was _close_? He wished it really were, but anyway, he needed to focus himself. "I didn't see anyone else around for the past hour," Zuko wrote.

"He's got a ship," Aang explained. "Did you see anything on the water?"

"Yes, about halfway between here and the abbey, I saw a small Fire Nation ship. It headed south, so if that's who you mean, you don't have much to worry about."

The group noticeably brightened at those words. "Well, we should still be cautious," Katara said. "He might be going up and down the coast. We'll need to cover Appa up, and we'll sleep in turns."

The two boys groaned, but didn't disagree.

Zuko privately wondered if their night watch skills were any better than their hiding skills. They weren't telling him to leave, after all. He could rule himself out as a current threat, unfortunately, because he'd outsmarted himself. With this bunch, it looked like he could just grab the Avatar while he was asleep, and he would not endanger the others by doing so, but it would be days before he got back to his ship, and they'd pursue him in the meantime. Zhao was undoubtedly still using all the resources at his disposal to search, too. Well, he'd just have to follow through with the original plan.

Tapping at the slate to get their attention, he wrote, "I came to ask for that favor, actually. Would you mind helping me get to Luanyang? There is someone there I need to meet." Luanyang was at the westernmost tip of the Earth Kingdom. If they agreed to take him there, they would not be able to get to North Port for at least four days even with the bison, and if he managed to talk them into taking him somewhere else after that, they'd be delayed even longer.

Aang shot into the air with delight after Sokka read out the message. "Yes! Finally! I mean, I'd be happy to help you in such a small way." He sat down and bowed over his hands.

"Then," Zuko wrote, "I can take first watch. I slept during the day."

"Thanks," Aang said. "We'll wait for Appa to get back, cover him up, and then get some sleep."

"Well," said Sokka with a yawn, "if nobody minds, I think I'll turn in now. Just give me some extra chores tomorrow to make up for it."

"Right, your growth spurt." Even her nod was sarcastic.

Aang snickered. "We want you to grow up _just_ as tall as you can. Think how good a fighter you'll be then!"

"Yeah, yeah," Sokka waved his hand at them. "Sleep now. Mockery later." He unrolled his sleeping bag.

Zuko almost quoted his uncle, but restrained himself in time.

"Before your head hits the pillow, oh Tall-Growing One, toss me your shirt. You've got yet _another_ rip in it."

"That one was actually not my fault!" Sokka protested. "I was paralyzed at the time!"

"And I notice you're not paralyzed now, yet I'm the one sewing it back up," Katara noted dryly.

Sokka put his hands together in front of his bowed head in a gesture of humble appeal. "Dearest Katara, please don't make me do my own sewing again," he recited. "I throw myself upon your mercy in all clothes-mending affairs. Please, and thank you."

"Sokka," she shook her head, but she seemed to be fighting a smile. "Just give me the shirt already."

He complied. "You're the best!"

She smiled, then turned a sharp glance upon Zuko, who had been watching this byplay with fascination. "Did you do your own sewing on the rips from the arrow? Because I have to tell you, fabric is not supposed to pucker like that. Let me fix that for you after I finish with Sokka's shirt."

Zuko, who was well aware of the crudeness of his sewing skills, would have been glad to let her do it, but for one problem. "It's my only shirt," he wrote on the slate, "and I'm not taking it off in company."

"Honestly, what can be so bad you won't let anyone see?"

He shook his head. "I learned to sew by trial-and-much-error," he wrote. It was something Uncle had made him do a couple of times, when his rage had gotten the better of him and items of clothing got damaged. Uncle claimed that the precision required in placing stitches would help him refine the motions of his hands in fighting. Privately, Zuko suspected that Uncle just picked the chore as a way of getting him to go away and sit still for an hour, but he could hardly complain either way. He continued to write, "If you teach me the right way, that will be quite useful to me." Not that he expected to do much more sewing in his life, but she didn't know that, and odd skills had proven useful to him often enough that Zuko didn't like to pass up the opportunity to learn more.

"Really?" She smiled at him with genuine pleasure. "I'd be happy to teach you."

So she did, slowing down her movements and talking through the reasoning behind doing things one way and not another. She was good at explaining things with clarity, and by the time she finished mending the shirt, Zuko was confident he could mend his later.

A low roar sounded outside the cave. Aang, who had been playing with Momo during the sewing lesson, bounded to his feet. "Appa's back!" He raced outside without so much as a pause to check whether anyone was around. Zuko closed his eyes in silent despair at such carelessness and followed him out much more slowly, scanning the darkness. Fortunately, the countryside around them was still empty, aside from the bison and the Avatar rubbing as much of the bison's head as he could reach.

As Zuko approached, the bison lumbered to his feet and whuffed low in his throat – a clear warning. Did the animal remember people by scent and see through the disguise? It seemed likely. But the bison didn't attack yet. Instead, it sniffed him again. Zuko hoped that it could smell that he'd been in the company of the Avatar for an hour without causing trouble, but couldn't hope that the creature was intelligent enough to reason out the implications. Desperately, he struggled to project the sense of "I'm not a threat" through his inner fire.

"Appa?" the Avatar questioned. "What's wrong? This is Blue Spirit Lee. I know he looks frightening in that mask – I was frightened too, when I first saw him – but he's really very nice."

Whether because of that little speech, or because his fire message worked, or because of something else, the bison sniffed him again and settled back down.

"Momo acted a bit like that at first, too," Katara observed. "I guess he just smells funny to them."

"Probably," the Avatar shrugged. Zuko could almost see him dismissing the matter from consideration now that the bison had settled. With effort, Zuko suppressed the urge to shake the boy and order him to be more wary. It was a _good_ thing that his enemies were so amateurish.

"We need you to hide, Appa," the Avatar was explaining earnestly to the bison. The boy led it to a hollow between two hills that would just about hide the bison from the view of someone on the shore – but not from that of, say, the lookout atop a Fire Nation ship's tower. Fortunately, Aang seemed to realize this without being told, as he bit his lip and started trying to tear off bits of coastal brush to cover the bison with. Zuko handed him his dagger, and one of his swords to Katara, then darted back inside the cave for his slate.

"Can you swirl dust onto him with airbending?" he wrote. "It's the whiteness that makes him so easy to spot."

Aang grinned. "Good idea!" In moments, they were all coughing, but the bison was more grey than white. They worked together to cut the brush and pile it atop the bison, to enhance the paltry disguise. When they were done, the result wouldn't pass any sort of close inspection, but to avoid detection from ships that couldn't approach any closer than the shallows, it ought to be good enough.

Zuko collected his weapons, the cleaning kit from his pack, and went back outside to keep watch and restore the edges to his blades.

"Good night," Aang said, and yawned. "Wake me up when you get tired, okay?"

He nodded.

"Good night," Katara said softly as she came up to him. She hesitated for a few moments, then said, "I'm going to touch your arm, okay?"

Surprised, he made no protest. Her hand rested on his forearm, and she stared at it. In a hushed voice, she said, "I can tell it's hard for you, being around us." He stiffened, wondering yet again what she suspected. "I can't blame you," she continued. "I can barely imagine what it must have been like for you, all these years, thinking that you couldn't let anyone see you. I get why hiding away is such a habit for you, why you keep pulling away. But I really hope that you'll understand in time that whatever you look like underneath, it won't change how we see you. Maybe that can be part of our repayment to you – helping you feel more comfortable around people again. All right?"

He stared at her in complete shock. She was utterly wrong, speaking to the Blue Spirit's fake history and not to him. But the way she said it… he couldn't move.

She bit her lip, embarrassed. "Or we could just teach you sewing and give you a lift to Luanyang. Whatever you want. Just, think about it, would you?"

When he still couldn't respond, she sighed, and patted his arm. "'night," she whispered, and went away.

He spent a lot of time that night staring up at the sky and trying desperately not to think about how what she said made sense to Zuko, too, and how it was impossible.


	3. Fighting Styles, Rescue Styles

**Chapter 3**

Katara woke up quickly at the faint sounds of gasping. Snapping her head around, she saw Sokka still snoring peacefully with Momo curled up against his side, no sign of Aang, and – the dark lump of their new friend at the furthest end of the cave. He was flailing around in his sleep, making those painful little sounds. She ran over to him, and he woke up before she could reach him, throwing his arms up in front of his face. The mask, rather – he hadn't taken it off even to sleep.

"Lee, it's all right, it's just me," she tried to soothe him.

After a little while, he lowered his arms. Then he lay back down, turning his back to her, clearly trying to pretend nothing had happened. She shook her head silently, and went to check on where Aang was. As she hoped, he was just outside the cave, keeping watch.

"Morning, Katara! What are you doing up so early?"

The sun wasn't visible above the gently sloping mountains to the east, yet, but it couldn't have been less than an hour past dawn. "Lee had a nightmare, and we should get moving soon, anyway. By the way, why didn't you wake me up to keep watch?"

Aang frowned in concern. "Because I've only been keeping watch for about two hours. That's when Lee shook me awake. Claimed that he couldn't sleep. Nightmare, you say?"

"A bad one, I think. Not that he wanted to explain, but I think it must have been connected with what happened to him. He woke up just from hearing me coming, and he looked like I was going to beat him around the head," she demonstrated the posture she'd seen.

Aang's frown deepened. "When we were fighting off all those soldiers in the fortress, he never seemed frightened. It must have been really bad, to scare him like that."

"Maybe he just puts on a good show when he's awake," Katara suggested. "I get the feeling that he's constantly expecting something bad to happen to him."

"Really? Why?"

"You don't see it?" Katara blinked. "He hasn't relaxed once since we met him."

"He's a calm guy," Aang protested.

"Yes, but not a relaxed one. The closest he's been to it was during that sword dance thing yesterday."

"I didn't notice," said Aang, a bit sadly.

"You probably just haven't had as much experience as I've had at estimating the mood of someone wrapped up in a thick parka. It teaches you all about subtle body language."

Aang smiled. "I'll rely on you to let me know about it, then."

"Sure," she smiled back. "I was thinking that I should go and get breakfast started, but if you think it's safe, perhaps we should let Lee sleep a while longer?"

"Yeah. Actually, he said – well, wrote – that he'd eaten just before waking me. I guess he really doesn't want us to see him without his mask on."

"I was afraid of that," Katara sighed. This whole making Lee comfortable thing was obviously not going to be easy. Katara was not one to give up, though.

There was the sound of tapping behind them. It was Lee, of course, letting them know that he was awake and standing there.

"Go back to bed," Katara told him. "We're not in a hurry."

He shook his head emphatically, and wandered outside. As he had yesterday, he paused to scan their surroundings closely. Apparently deciding it was safe, he began a series of stretches. He really was extremely graceful, though Katara wished she could place the style of those movements. They didn't seem Earth Kingdom, somehow – not that she was an expert on anything but Southern Water Tribe style fighting.

"Aang," she asked quietly, "is he using a tradition you recognize?"

"No," he said. "I just know it's not based on air."

"Sokka might know more – he was always interested in such stuff. Right, breakfast. Could you gather some driftwood for the fire?"

"Sure!" Aang leaped up and beamed at her. "Back in a jiffy!"

True to his word, in a few minutes he dumped an armful of fuel next to the fire. Katara swept the coals to one side, set the pot of stew on them to reheat, and used the pieces of driftwood to build up a new fire, to boil the water for the tea. For Sokka, she pulled out a bit of dried meat to go with the vegetarian fare.

Waking Sokka was a familiar chore. It took some doing, but he was much more alert once she asked him whether he could identify Lee's fighting style. He went outside immediately, both to take care of morning business and to watch.

"Wow," he announced on his return. "I didn't even know it was possible to do push-ups while standing on your hands!" At Katara's look, he added, "He was just doing some crazy strength exercises. I didn't see any actual fighting forms. But I've got a plan!"

Sokka's plan, whatever it was, had to wait, because when Aang came in for breakfast, he reported seeing two ships far off in the distance. It was time to go. They ate quickly, Sokka and Lee rolled up all of their belongings, Aang airbended away Appa's disguise, and with barely a warning to Lee to hang on tight, they were off.

* * *

><p>Zuko had never expected to fly, and in the first few minutes, he wasn't sure that he wanted to. However, once the vertigo of rapid ascent subsided and he opened his eyes, he could not help but be amazed. The Avatar steered his bison above clouds, trying to hide from watchers, but in between the clouds, the land looked both familiar and strange. The lines of the rivers were the most familiar, as they looked almost like they did on maps. In between the rivers, however… He gripped the side of the saddle with both hands and just watched. The Avatar's group shared a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional peaceful comment on idle topics.<p>

He didn't even realize one of those comments had been addressed to him until a finger tapped hesitantly at his shoulder. He whirled, nearly overbalancing, only to see Katara's sheepish expression. "I just wondered if you were cold," she said apologetically.

Zuko silently cursed himself for losing track of where he was. The Blue Spirit was not a firebender, and being comfortable in this chilly air would definitely be suspicious. He pulled a shapeless brown cloak out of his bag and wrapped it around himself, pretending to shiver a little as if warming up. Katara smiled and went back to her seat, and he let out a silent sigh of relief.

Not long after that, the bison began to fly lower. "Sorry guys!" Aang called back from his perch on the bison's head. "Appa's getting tired again. We'll take a break."

They landed in one of the shallow valleys beneath them. Aang patted at his bison with worry. "You're still recovering from being attacked by that nasty creature? You just get some rest, buddy." The bison gave a groan and lay down on the ground, his eyes closing immediately. "You did good," Aang assured him, and tiptoed away with exaggerated care.

Zuko found it a slightly pathetic display, to be honest, but of course he wouldn't express that particular opinion around here. He turned away and startled to see Sokka way too close to him. Zuko hadn't even realized he was there. First his sister, now him! Zuko's ability to pay attention seemed to have deteriorated very suddenly.

Unaware of these unhappy thoughts, Sokka grinned at him. "Blue, I wanted to ask you – could you teach me some of that stuff you do with swords?"

Zuko instinctively took a step back, one hand reaching back. Teach an enemy how to fight more effectively? He might be losing his mind here, but not to that extent.

Sokka's face fell. "Aw, man, I can understand you being protective of your weapons and stuff, but I'm not going to break anything! I'm a pretty fast learner."

Zuko hesitated. Even with the excuse Sokka just handed him, he wondered if he would arouse their suspicions if he continued to refuse. Before he could decide, Sokka suddenly raised a finger. "I know! You teach me swords, and I –" he produced something from behind his back and brandished it triumphantly, "will show you the ancient ways of boomerang throwing!"

Now that sounded intriguing. Zuko remembered the whistle of air past his ear, the way he'd assumed that the strange weapon had been thrown wide, only to have it somehow smack into his head from behind. How else would he learn of these unusual weapons and how to defend against them? As for the danger of teaching the enemy, how much could Sokka really learn in an hour? Very little, of course. Even should he master a few basics, he had no swords of his own and, apparently, no money to get them. It was safe enough. He nodded, and he and Sokka went to train while Aang and Katara wandered away to the river to practice waterbending.

Within half an hour, he realized his miscalculation. Sokka learned frighteningly fast. Zuko would swear he had never tried to swing anything sharper than that edged club of his before, but even with the slowness of having to write down certain explanations, his form was close to perfect within minutes. By the end of that half-hour, he was already intuiting the best way to use the strengths of the broadswords and how to compensate for their weaknesses. The ghost of old envy rose in Zuko – it was like watching Azula train – but this time, he could squash it easily. After all, Sokka didn't pause every few minutes to point out his own greatness. In fact, Sokka deferred to him, was only learning all this thanks to him, and it was oddly gratifying, having a student as good as this. Zuko found himself thinking of other strategies to teach the peasant boy, of ways to best explain complicated concepts…

Still, sanity reasserted itself. Zuko signaled a halt, ostensibly to get a drink of water from the river. He wandered away from the group, listening closely for any pursuit, until he was certain they could not see him. He pulled off his mask and gloves and rinsed his face repeatedly with the cold water. This had to stop. He was here to find information on the Avatar, not to enjoy himself.

Once he settled into familiar determination, he put his disguise back on and returned to the group. As he searched about for an excuse not to continue teaching Sokka, he wandered closer to the waterbending practice. He was genuinely fascinated, never having had the opportunity to observe it before. He'd seen some of it in battle, of course, but not like this. The motions of it seemed alien, all swaying movements, in sharp contrast to the bursts of motion firebenders tended to use. He couldn't understand how it would work, despite seeing the results with his own eyes. He copied the stance of the water girl, and thought that it seemed quite unsteady. Like standing on a swaying deck, actually, and he knew how to do that.

His stance broadened and he adjusted his knees for flexibility rather than stability. That seemed better. He copied the motions – she used her arms, primarily, but with the force of her body behind them – and it was nothing like working with fire, but he could almost see how it could be adapted… he came back to himself before he was tempted to actually experiment. The Blue Spirit was not a bender of any sort, and he pulled out his swords to remind him of that fact. Yet that rolling motion, from the heels up the legs and forward – that could probably be used to break the force of an opponent's attack and still let him pull back smoothly in a reversal of the motion to initiate an attack of his own. Like this, perhaps…

He became aware of Sokka watching him and sheathed his swords, feeling obscurely guilty. The other boy merely smiled at him, however, and tossed his boomerang gently up into the air, then caught it with his other hand. "Come on, I promised you a lesson in return, didn't I? Let's go."

Sokka was not just a good student, but also a good instructor. Though he joked about the likelihood of losing a few fingers to the sharp edges of the boomerang, he did not let Zuko actually throw it until he was satisfied that Zuko could catch it safely. By the end of the lesson, Zuko could at least throw the boomerang in such a way that it came back to him each time, though he could not hit a target with it as yet. When he remembered how long it took him before he could throw his dagger accurately, Zuko decided that he would stick with improving the throwing skills he already had rather than try to master the boomerang. Throwing the dagger always brought back memories of himself and Mai teaching each other, and he cherished those.

"Hey, why'd you stop?" Sokka protested.

The slate was lying some distance away, so for answer, Zuko threw his dagger. It didn't quite reach the spot he'd mentally marked as the target, his aim off after having tried to adjust to the different way of throwing the boomerang. Zuko shook his head sadly, retrieved his dagger, and worked on hitting the right spot. Finally succeeding after a few tries, he nodded in satisfaction, then kept throwing to make sure that it had not been a fluke. He could imagine Mai speaking to him, correcting his grip.

Sokka watched him with some puzzlement. "There's no reason you can't learn both," he offered after a while.

Zuko shook his head in disagreement. Sokka frowned, and trotted off to fetch the slate. Practically forcing it into Zuko's hands, he demanded, "Okay, explain it to me."

Zuko sighed audibly. "I'm not that fast a learner," he wrote. "The amount of time I'd need to master the boomerang would be significant, and I'm still training a number of other skills. Thanks for showing me, but I think I'll leave your weapon to you."

"But you're really good with weapons!" Sokka said.

"It took me years of hard work," he wrote, the chalk clicking against the slate at every stroke in his anger. "Things don't come easy to me." He would have gone on, but Sokka interrupted.

"You think I learned to throw the boomerang in a day? I had to practice, same as anyone, and let me tell you, my father didn't give me anything but a wooden boomerang for three weeks."

"Are you planning to master the mace, spear, javelin, polearm, and katana all at once?" he wrote in reply.

"What kind of question is that? Of course not."

"Because you have to choose, yes? I have to choose, too. Learning about the boomerang was fun, but I can't let it distract me."

"It is fun, isn't it? I… kinda do get what you mean, now. I just don't think it's so terrible to let yourself get distracted every once in a while."

Because you have no discipline, thought Zuko, but kept it to himself. What would be the point? He turned the dagger over in his hands slowly.

"Can I see it?" asked Sokka, nodding towards the dagger.

Zuko handed the dagger over after a pause. It didn't matter.

Sokka examined the dagger from all angles with some curiosity. "This is first-rate craftsmanship," he murmured softly, almost to himself. "Never give up without a fight? – good motto to have." Looking up at Zuko, he said, "I don't mean to pry, but this isn't exactly the kind of weapon a boy from a poor village could easily get his hands on, is it?"

Zuko shook his head and wiped off the nearly-filled slate. "It was a gift," he wrote.

"From whom?"

Zuko's throat tightened. If he said it was from his uncle, Sokka might flash back to the fact that Prince Zuko travelled with his uncle and start drawing unfortunate comparisons. "My father," he wrote, his fingers almost cramping on the chalk. "He was a really good soldier, decorated with the highest honors seven times." Also a highly respected General, and the Dragon of the West, but he couldn't exactly talk about that.

"Is he… dead?" Sokka asked softly.

Zuko shook his head, and had to blink his eyes a few times. "I haven't seen him in years," he wrote, quickly, so as to stop his hand from shaking. "I can't go back. Not like this." He didn't even know what he was writing anymore.

"Hey, hey," Sokka soothed, "why not? I'm sure he'd be proud to see how good a fighter you've become."

If only it were that simple.

After the silence stretched a while, Sokka offered, "I haven't seen my dad in two years, either. All the men in our village left to fight. I begged him to let me come with them, but…" Sokka sighed, lost in his own memories.

Zuko blinked a little at this new information. He had noticed the absence of adult men the day he'd arrived at the South Pole, of course, but had thought at the time that they were either setting up a counterattack or spiriting the Avatar away, or both.

"He left me behind," Sokka continued. "Said that I had to protect my sister and our village. I tried, I really did. I thought I was ready to be a warrior. But the moment a real Fire Nation ship arrived, I got my ass handed to me. They took Aang away, and they nearly burned down our village. I…"

Zuko squelched the urge to explain that he'd had no intention of burning down the village. The Blue Spirit didn't know anything about what happened that day. Picking up the slate, he wrote instead, "One against a shipful of troops is bad odds for the greatest of masters. That you, your sister, and Aang are all still alive and free tells me that you were not nearly as bad as you say."

"Thanks," Sokka smiled weakly. "I guess it's true. I've learned a few things since, too. Not that I can take all the credit. The three of us make a really good team."

Zuko nodded in agreement. However naïve the three of them were, within the bounds of their knowledge, they did make a good team, and they were obviously always seeking to learn more. Zuko could respect that. It was good to have honorable enemies.

As if summoned by the mention, Aang and Katara chose that moment to reappear. "Hey guys!" Aang waved, and collapsed onto the dry grass.

Katara plopped down beside him, obviously tired. She reached over for the slate and scanned it quickly, her eyebrows rising. "You were talking about Lee's dad?"

"Yeah, and then I told him about ours," Sokka explained.

"We'll see him again, Sokka," said Katara, longing obvious in her voice. "And you know he'll be proud of you. Bato said so."

"Of you, too. You're getting really good at that water stuff," Sokka said with a small smile.

Aang winced for some reason. "I'm really sorry, guys," he said in a small voice.

Sokka seemed about to say something, then bit it back. "'S all right," he muttered.

"I know I really messed up," said Aang. "I didn't mean to. I just panicked."

Katara put her hand on his shoulder. "We know. I just don't understand why you thought we'd leave you. We were planning to go with you, you know, until…"

Aang's eyes got very wide. "You were? I mean, I know you mean it, I just…"

"We won't leave you, Aang," Katara said firmly. "You're our family, too, now."

"Yeah, you're not getting rid of us that easily," Sokka drawled.

Aang laughed and threw himself at the siblings, hugging them both. They returned the embrace without hesitation.

Zuko looked away. They'd been together for only a little over a month. How could they be so sure?

"We'll go and look for your dad right after I finish learning waterbending, how's that?" he heard Aang say.

"That sounds good," said Katara warmly. "But since Omashu is on the way, we'll stop there first."

"Hey, Lee," Aang called. Zuko didn't turn around, not wanting to be drawn into conversation right now. "Lee! Blue Spirit, do you want us to help you look for your dad, too?"

Zuko shook his head. He knew exactly where his father was, and he was certain that the Avatar did not mean to give himself up quietly.

"He wrote here that he can't go back 'like this'," Katara explained quietly.

"But your dad loves you, right? I know he won't care what you look like. He'll just be happy to see you again."

Yes, Dad loved him, Zuko was sure of that. It was just that things were not so simple for the ruler of the Fire Nation. His father would be happy to see him, but then that happiness would be counterweighed by the fact that Zuko was not a good son, not honorable, not fit to be the heir. How could any father forgive that?

"Blue, you got your scars protecting people. They're warrior's scars," argued Sokka.

Seeing that they would not leave him alone, Zuko turned around reluctantly and picked up the slate. "It's not that," he wrote, his fingers heavy and slow. "I really disappointed him, and I brought shame upon our family. I have to make up for that first."

"What the heck?" Sokka exploded. "What in the world could you possibly have done as a kid that was that bad?"

I disrespected him. I humiliated him in front of the entire court by showing shameful weakness. I haven't even been good enough to capture a twelve-year-old. He clenched his fists and refused to answer.

"I think I know a little bit about how you feel," Aang put in unexpectedly. Zuko looked up at him, startled. The Avatar had been raised by monks, so what would he know?

It was Aang's turn to look down at the ground. "I ran away from the temple. Gyatso – he was one of the senior monks, but he was like a father to me – I knew he would be badly disappointed by this, and I… thought of turning around, but I was afraid of facing him. Even when that storm blew up, I thought – well, I'll handle this on my own. I'll prove that I can do this. Next thing I know, I'm waking up after a hundred years frozen in an iceberg, and I wasn't there when everyone got killed, and now I'll never get to apologize to him."

The Avatar took a deep breath, and looked up. "So you see, I know you think it was terrible, whatever you did, I _know_ it feels that way, but it might be better to face him, anyway."

His father didn't want to face him, though. He'd made the conditions very clear.

"I'll think about it," he wrote.

"Okay," Aang smiled.

"Tell me about Gyatso," Zuko wrote, hoping to distract their attention from him. It might help him learn more about the Avatar, too.

Aang's smile widened, and he launched into a long and rambling tale of the many good times he'd had with his mentor. It was a life astonishingly different from anything Zuko had ever heard about, and he did not need to fake his interest. Some of it was downright unbelievable, in fact.

"Wait," he wrote, "did you say that he and you threw cakes at the senior monks?"

"Yep! Good training for aiming with airbending, you know."

"But the senior monks," Zuko wrote insistently, "weren't they angry at such disrespect?"

"Well, I can't say they were entirely happy about it," explained Aang with an air of nonchalance, "but Gyatso would remind them that there was great wisdom in reacting with grace to the unexpected."

Zuko was having great trouble understanding this, so he just gestured for Aang to continue. Another half-hour passed in happy reminiscence before the sound of the bison waking reminded them that they ought to get moving.

Katara passed around some fruit for a quick lunch (Zuko claimed not to be hungry), and since it turned out that Appa was apparently still too tired to carry all of them, they walked. Towards evening, the path they were following brought them to a crossroads, with a signboard right in the middle of it.

Aang argued for going into town after seeing a poster advertising a Fire Nation festival – apparently, he hoped to learn some firebending from watching, though Zuko suspected that having some fun formed a large part of the boy's plans.

"You might wanna rethink that," Sokka warned. "Look at this."

They all stepped around to see. Zuko was completely unsurprised to see the wanted poster of Aang – he had seen it before. The one of his own mask was new, but also unsurprising.

Aang actually seemed excited rather than bothered by this. Though both Katara and Sokka tried to argue him out of it, Aang insisted on going into the town. In the end, he convinced Katara that the trip was worth it and she backed him up, swearing that they could disguise themselves and run away if there was trouble. Though Sokka was obviously still unhappy, he didn't try to stop them, so Zuko couldn't protest much, either. They went into the direction of the town.

It turned out that Aang's idea of a disguise was just to pull his hood up over his head. Shaking his head since his own disguise prevented him from swearing, Zuko pulled out his brown cloak and dropped it onto the boy's idiotic head. Aang just laughed and pulled it on. At least it covered his yellow robes, and pretty much concealed his arrows, though it left him swimming in fabric. Katara pulled out some rope and went to work tying the cloak up in such a way that Aang wouldn't trip over it.

"You're not coming?" Sokka asked.

Zuko shook his head. He wasn't sure that he could conceal his homesickness from the others if actually confronted with the sights and sounds of the festival. He really needed to meditate, too. He was beginning to recognize that the past day had truly messed with his head, and he was determined to straighten himself out before continuing to go on with the Avatar's group. Somehow, in their presence, it was very hard to keep sight of himself.

* * *

><p>"So to answer your question, Katara," said Sokka as they walked down the hill to the town, "I think Blue is using a self-invented fighting style of some kind. It didn't really look like any traditional style that I know, but I could see elements of different styles in it. Even Fire Nation style. I think he just picks things up wherever he sees them, judging by how he was watching you earlier."<p>

"Watching me?" Katara blinked.

"When you were waterbending with Aang, he started imitating you, and then he tried those same movements with his swords. I don't think he's ever seen a waterbender before, because he was awkward at it at first, but by the end, he had an interesting move worked out."

"But what's the point of trying to waterbend if you're not a bender?" Aang sounded both puzzled and intrigued.

"Bending is a style of fighting. Just using the motions of bending and adapting them for fighting with swords can help you do something the opponent doesn't expect."

Aang nodded. Katara smiled. "I think I'll offer to teach him, if he likes."

"I think he'd enjoy that," Sokka nodded. "Unless he thinks it's a 'distraction.'" Sokka was still a bit disappointed about it.

They continued chatting as they headed on towards the town. Katara looked around excitedly at all the colorful decorations, and Aang was even worse. Sokka sighed. All right, so the drumbeats were catchy. That didn't mean they could just relax, and his stomach still growled painfully. Sokka put his arms behind his back in an attempt to make himself look more like a stern guard, but no one seemed to pay any attention to that.

Sokka hadn't expected much from the festival in the first place; then he burned his mouth on those fire flakes, saw a puppet get immolated, and the next thing he knew, they were all running for their lives _yet again_.

Appa saved the day, airlifting them all out as fireworks exploded behind them. Their mysterious rescuer turned around to reveal himself as a Fire Nation soldier, though he claimed to be a former one. They circled back over the place where they'd left Blue, but there was no sign of him. Eventually, they had to land and make camp, and promptly got captured. It was definitely one of those days.

Okay, okay, so it didn't turn out so badly in the end. Chey really wasn't on the Fire Nation's side anymore, their captors were inclined to let them go, and Aang managed to convince Jeong Jeong to teach him firebending. Sokka reserved the right to grumble anyway.

Sokka didn't much like Jeong Jeong. The old man had called him an oaf, and however funny it was to watch Aang's frustration at being told to concentrate, privately, Sokka thought that Jeong Jeong treated Aang more like an annoyance than like a student. It didn't take long before he decided that he'd fished enough for today and announced that he would take Appa and look for Blue again. Blue might not have been a bender, but he was a good teacher, and didn't get on Sokka's nerves. Another sword lesson would be fine by Sokka. He didn't find him, though.

* * *

><p>Zuko had intended to meditate directly after the others left, but when he saw a suspicious shadow flit through the trees, that plan got put on hold. He tracked the shadow for a while, but eventually lost the trail and had to give up.<p>

On his return to where Appa and Momo "hid," he picked a tree at some distance away from them (just in case the others returned early and saw him). He fought back his sleepiness, afraid of a return of the nightmares. He hadn't felt exactly comfortable sleeping near his enemies in the first place, and then he kept dreaming of fingers reaching for his face. They tore at his mask, but didn't stop there. Soon, they would tear at his scar, at his skin, reaching behind his eyes – and all this would morph into flashes of memory of the Agni Kai. He didn't want to think about it, even. Breaking off a relatively dry branch, he lit it and held it upright between his palms. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, he started sinking into the familiar pattern of relaxed meditation.

The flame soon rose and fell steadily with his breath and his thoughts were beginning to even out, when a sudden commotion startled him. His eyes snapped open just in time to see the bison and lemur flying at top speed towards the town. He extinguished the branch and leapt down from the tree. Something was obviously wrong. He moved as fast as he could while keeping himself hidden.

Halfway down the hill, he saw fireworks start to explode in the sky. They were beautiful, but Zuko knew that no self-respecting firemaster would set them off in such a haphazard pattern. Seconds later, he saw the familiar outline of the bison soaring away from the town. At this distance in the darkness, he could not make out who was aboard. He continued on towards the town. If anyone got left behind in that mess, the Avatar would come back anyway, and if they all escaped, Zuko still needed to find out what went wrong in order to predict in which direction they were now headed. It was the kind of scouting mission perfect for the Blue Spirit.

Hiding in the shadows, he listened in on conversations, moving around town slowly. It paid off in time, and he was able to piece together that the Avatar had blown off his entire disguise during a performance. It wasn't entirely clear why, but more listening suggested that there had been smoke bombs involved. That definitely did not sound like anything the Avatar had on him, nor did the Fire Nation tend to use such tactics, except for some highly specialized teams. Zuko had the feeling a third party had been involved, whether for good or ill. He continued working his way across town, arriving at a major street just in time to see a group of soldiers marching through – with Zhao at their head.

Zuko scrambled deeper into shadows and followed them. He overheard Zhao's conversation with the town guards, which told him everything he needed to know. Zhao would be following the Avatar's trail, of course, but since it was nighttime now, he and his soldiers would sleep first. Zuko could not hope to match the speed of a boat on foot, so he needed to find a way to sneak aboard.

Naturally, there were the watchmen to deal with. Zuko wondered, not for the first time, whether it might not have been better to pick a less highly-reflective mask for his disguise. Of course, he knew why he stuck with this one, and would not trade it, though it did make things difficult sometimes.

The watchmen turned out to be professionals, unfortunately. They did not grow more distracted over time. Zuko finally resorted to going far enough downriver so that they wouldn't hear him and dove in. The swim upstream was arduous, and he was careful to surface as little as possible, even though he was being quiet and using the bank for cover. Once close to the boats, he swam underneath the nearest keel and emerged without a splash on the other side, now hidden from the watchmen by the boat itself. He clung to the slippery side as best he could while he caught his breath and raised his body temperature to something more comfortable.

The warmth made him dangerously sleepy. He was not done by half yet. Just one soldier taking a leak over the side as they travelled upstream would be enough to spot him. The boats were too small for him to hide inside, and there was no place that would cover him from above, except under the boat itself.

Well enough, he'd done this kind of thing before. It required concentration, but he could tell where people were by sensing their inner fire. What he would need to do was to swim under the boat every time he sensed anyone getting too close. It would be difficult, but it could be done.

Next problem. He could not keep gripping the smooth sides of the boat for hours, especially once they started moving. Up at the prow, there were some convenient spikes to grab onto, and the front would probably be a relatively safe place once everyone was aboard, but right now, it would leave him exposed to the view of the watchmen.

The obvious solution would be to burn some handgrips into the wood, but he was afraid of the noise that hissing wet wood would make when burned. He ended up waiting until the soldiers woke up. The noise of the soldiers walking around and eating breakfast made for a good cover, and he managed a decent set of shallow indentations for his fingers. Finally, they were underway, and he was too busy struggling not to fall off to worry about much of anything. The speed of their passage raised sizeable waves at the side of the boat – good for covering him up, but not so good for breathing.

A couple of hours into the journey, he noted the presence of faint people-warmth near the riverbank, heard the hum of arrows, and suddenly felt the heat of fireballs passing overhead. An arrow thwacked into the wood very near his hand, followed by another – so they saw him, too. He swung to the other side to hide, but an unexpected rock in the river slammed into his trailing feet. The boat shuddered and rocked as Zhao threw more fireballs. Zuko's hands scrabbled for firmer purchase, and he lost his grip. He had to dive to avoid being scraped up by the boat's keel, and by the time he resurfaced, the boats were already too far away to catch.

He made his way to the riverbank, his throat and chest tight with frustration. On the shore, flames spread through the forest very rapidly as they fed on the dry old growth. The people he'd sensed were running away from the blaze. They were capable of slowing Zhao, but the fire interfered. After assuring himself of a good hiding spot, he took a deep breath, caught at the fire's energy with his fingertips, and slowly began to push his arms down.

The forest blaze fought him at every step, but in the end, it obeyed a firebender's will. That was the point at which sleeplessness and exertion caught up with him, and though he promised himself a short nap, he ended up sleeping till after dark.

He was probably too late, now, but he trudged upstream anyway.

Zuko's hopes brightened again when he saw signs of fighting along the way. There had been fire here, too, but someone besides himself had put it out. There were no Fire Nation colonies nearby besides the one of the ill-fated festival, but he figured that a local firebender had not taken kindly to the forest burning down. He need not have bothered with the first fire, then, but he hadn't known.

As he kept walking, morning came. There were no signs of fighting now, and no signs of the boats. The world around him was silent and uncommunicative. He kept on moving.

Finally, halfway through the morning, he caught sight of something round and white ahead of him and above the trees. All the clouds in the sky were of the thin, streaky variety. He scrambled up the nearest tree to see where the Avatar was going now.

The bison was flying away towards the southwest, and he thought he could see all three silhouettes on it. Zuko resigned himself to retracing his steps, and began to climb down. However, the bison was turning now, and he climbed back to see the course correction better. Was that – someone waving from atop the bison?

Spirits. After all that time chasing the bison, now it was just coming for him, and he still couldn't capture the Avatar. Zuko did not much like irony at that point.

Yes, it was the Avatar waving and hollering. The bison came to a gentle stop right alongside him, and the Avatar used a blast of air to assist his jump from the tree into the saddle.

"It's a good thing Katara spotted you," said Aang happily. "Hey, where's your pack?"

Zuko gestured that it was far away. He'd left it behind rather than let it get wet.

Aang frowned. "Your slate, too? We don't have anything to write on! I wish you could talk. I know! Come over here and I'll show you how to steer Appa, and you guide us to where it is."

It was extremely tempting – Zuko could think of a lot of uses for gaining control over the Avatar's bison – but it wasn't safe until he knew where Zhao was. His first couple of attempts to get that across in gestures just drew blank stares. "Something… together?" Aang finally hazarded.

Zuko shook his head impatiently, just barely restraining himself from breathing smoke. He tried again, by pointing to each of them and Appa in turn, then making a whooshing motion in the direction of the river.

"You want us to go there?"

Zuko raised his clenched fists to his head in frustration. Shaking his head rapidly, he repeated the gesture, then drew the symbol for fire in the air and made walking motions with his other hand, as if following the one representing Appa.

"Fire? You mean those burned trees there?"

Zuko hissed through clenched teeth.

"Sorry, I've never been any good at charades," Aang apologized. "Fire… Fire Nation?"

Finally they were getting somewhere. Zuko nodded exaggeratedly.

"What about them?" Nobody could actually be this clueless, could they? Zuko mimed stabbing himself with a dagger and fell flat onto his back in "death," complete with a frustrated death rattle.

"Oh! You're worried about them killing us? Don't worry," Aang grinned broadly, "they're not going to be able to catch up to us anymore."

Zuko raised his head and gestured for Aang to go on.

"I made Zhao burn down all his own boats," the Avatar laughed. "He and his soldiers will have quite a walk back."

Zuko sat up at this news, tilting his head in eager inquiry.

"It was what Jeong Jeong said," the Avatar began eagerly. Though with many turns to backtrack and explain what had happened to their group in the past couple of days, Aang eventually got back around to his fight with Zhao. He even reenacted some of it. Zuko nearly choked trying to keep his laughter soundless. It felt good, knowing that he was not the only one having trouble dealing with the Avatar.

Afterwards, Aang did show him how to steer, and they quickly retrieved his pack. There was nothing particularly important in it, but considering that it was supposed to contain all of the Blue Spirit's personal belongings, Zuko didn't protest the side trip. Not to mention, the slate was worth not leaving behind. He could not stand many more repeats of the "conversation" he'd had without it.

"Luanyang, here we come!" enthused Aang. Zuko rolled his eyes and settled back into the saddle. It was going to be a long flight.

Aang wasn't done talking, however. "Where were you? We looked for you after escaping from the town, but you weren't there."

Out came the slate. "When I saw the bison take off suddenly, I assumed you were in trouble, and went to look for you. I saw you flying away, and tried to figure out where you'd gone by investigating in the town."

"We headed right back to search for you!" Katara put in indignantly. "The only reason we stopped was because it was night and we got captured. And Sokka looked for you the day after, too! Did you think we'd just leave you behind?"

Zuko didn't think this required an answer, but Katara slowly paled, and Aang and Sokka both turned to stare at him. "You… really didn't expect us to come back?" Aang asked quietly.

"You were running for your lives; why would you?"

Sokka became downright angry, thrusting himself into Zuko's personal space. "We were worried about you, you jerk! Your poster was up on that board same as Aang's! Do you think we'd leave anyone to the mercy of the Fire Nation, much less a friend?"

Zuko froze in astonishment. When he had some control back over his arms, he wrote, "You've known me for less than two days. A bit early to be calling someone a friend."

"So?" Sokka asked. "It took me a few hours to go from thinking that Aang must be a Fire Nation spy and ordering him out of our village to taking my first ride on Appa, whom I considered a giant snot monster at that point I may add, in order to rescue him – because Aang proved himself someone I would be proud to call friend. Same as you did."

Zuko didn't know what to say. A large part of him wanted to argue, but his more rational side whispered that their trust was exactly what he'd been trying to gain. Old habits won out. "Maybe that works for you, but I need longer than that," he wrote, chalk clicking against the slate again.

"Whatever," Sokka rolled his eyes. "I gotta tell you though – with that manic grin you constantly have on, the gloom and suspicion are a bit jarring."

Zuko folded his hands across his chest, but his shoulders hunched a bit. What would Uncle say? Something about the wisdom of open eyes and open hands, perhaps; he couldn't quite remember how it went. Zuko never did know what his uncle meant, and he didn't know how to break this silence.

Out of ideas for the moment, he closed his eyes in an attempt to meditate. He never had much luck without his meditation candles, but he'd try. His thoughts refused to settle without a focus, but he did manage to fish a few things out of the general chaos.

Conclusion number one: his plan was working surprisingly well. He'd expected to face a lot more suspicion and hostility, more attempts to unmask him. According to Sokka, this was because he'd "proven" himself, and the other two didn't seem to disagree. He didn't quite understand why rescuing the Avatar merited such trust – after all, he'd done it for the most selfish of reasons, and had he had a good rope and some knockout drops, the Avatar would be close to arriving in the Fire Nation right now. Didn't they look for hidden motives? They'd mentioned an incident with someone named Jet who'd also helped them with apparently bad results, but then they… no, they didn't treat him quite so friendly at the first meeting. It was at the second one, and increasing since, but Zuko wasn't sure what had changed. He hadn't acted any differently. It would be useful to figure this out, in order to continue allaying their suspicions, but he couldn't come up with many ideas.

Perhaps part of it was Appa's acceptance? The lemur was a beloved pet, but the bison seemed to be something more than that to the Avatar. The spirit animal? Zuko remembered reading something about the Avatars of old frequently having one of those for a companion. The beast did seem more intelligent than he appeared at first glance. How had he known the Avatar was in need of rescue, anyway?

He pondered that for a while, but there were too many unknowns. Zuko went back to his plan. What had he found out? Quite a number of useful things about the way the Avatar and his companions thought and acted. The problem was that their mindset was fairly alien to him. He could almost see some logic behind it, and then he would lose the thread of it. Zuko hated to think of himself as stupid, but he couldn't quite convince himself that the fault lay entirely with the Avatar for being airheaded.

All right, what else? Aang had recently messed up with his friends, but they had recovered. Zuko didn't know if he'd be able to use that, but it was good to know that even in this tight-knit group, a fight could arise. Katara had put that necklace back on and wore it constantly. Sokka was good company. Wait, where had that thought come from? Sokka had gotten to him, somehow. Not in an annoying way, either. He was just… nice, and a bit awkward in the same way that Zuko was, and he knew something about a warrior's code of honor, and he wasn't afraid to speak his mind. Zuko realized with a start that, out of all of them, he was actually coming to trust Sokka. He wouldn't call the other boy a friend, of course, but he felt the beginnings of something that could easily become solid with time.

The discomfort of that jolted him out of what passed for calm meditation. Why was he worrying about who and what Sokka was? The Avatar was his goal. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else would restore his honor. Zuko looked over to where the Avatar sat on the bison's head, and sighed inaudibly. Why did his goal seem so far away when the Avatar was nearly within arm's reach?


	4. The Good in Firebending

**Chapter 4**

As they flew, the others talked amongst themselves, and Zuko listened for a while, but found no new information. If the banter between the three of them made him smile, well, they couldn't see it, and he didn't need to pay attention to that.

"Hey, Lee," the Avatar turned to look at him after another hour or so, "you've been pretty quiet. I mean, I know you can't talk, that's not what I mean – um, just, what's on your mind?"

Zuko sighed and tapped the mask in annoyance. Okay, it was silly, but he'd been the Blue Spirit so long, Lee felt like a third person, and he was having a hard enough time maintaining the separation between two. "I told you, it's Blue Spirit," he wrote down for emphasis. "Just Blue is fine too."

"Right, Blue," Aang agreed, but Zuko had the feeling he'd quickly forget again.

"I wasn't thinking anything interesting," he wrote, feeling almost apologetic. "I just had a question."

"What is it?" Aang actually seemed eager to know.

"Do you know how Appa knew he should fly to you?"

"Oh, that," Aang beamed, "I have this bison whistle!" He produced the item in question and spun it around above his hand with airbending. "Humans can't hear it, but Appa can."

Okay, simple and good to know – if he could get his hands on another such whistle – but something nagged at Zuko. "There was at least a mile between Appa and a town filled with the noises of a festival. What kind of whistle can be heard over such a distance?"

"I dunno," Aang shrugged. "I guess Appa just has really good hearing, don't you boy?" He leaned over to pat the bison. Appa gave a groan, but it didn't sound exactly like agreement or disagreement. Great, now he was trying to interpret bison language.

Zuko shook his head a bit. Katara got a thoughtful look on her face. "It does seem a bit unlikely, doesn't it?" She threw a glance at Zuko. "Do you have an idea about what it might be?"

How did she know he had an idea? Zuko hoped he could explain this without blowing his cover. Aang was the only one who could confirm or deny it, and it was important to know, so that he could make plans without fearing disruption by bison. Come to think of it, that's exactly how his first attempt to capture the Avatar failed.

"I've spent some time listening to firebenders gossip while trying to find out information," he wrote, "and they often mentioned something called "inner fire." Have any of you heard of it?"

They all shook their heads.

"If I understood it right, it's like the spirit part of a person, but not quite. It's very important to firebenders; they consider it the source of their ability to produce fire. They say that all creatures have it, and that a few can learn to communicate, or do other things, by using that inner fire. Is it possible that you blowing the whistle gives off not a sound but a message that you want Appa to come? You are the Avatar, after all."

After Sokka finished reading this out, there was a brief silence, then Aang exploded. "No. No way. I've never firebended to call Appa, and I will never firebend again at all. Jeong Jeong was right – fire only leads to destruction. I'll never hurt Appa, never."

Zuko wasn't sure which part of that to object to first. Wiping the slate, he settled on "You're the master of all four elements – how can you throw fire out?"

"Because it's a stupid element!" Aang yelled. "Look at what the Fire Nation did! A hundred years ago, I had a friend there, but now they don't seem to want to make friends anymore. All they do is make enemies and burn things down. I think it's their element which turned them that way."

He absolutely mustn't, but Zuko got angry anyway. His family was nothing like that. Uncle in particular made friends everywhere he went, everyone loved Azula despite her odder moments, and even his father, who didn't much care for friends, was respected and admired by everyone who knew him. His country was nothing like that. From a resource-poor chain of islands, they had made themselves into a force to be reckoned with. They built so many new things, and they wanted to share those things with the rest of the world. All right, so the other countries had grown tired of the war and hated them, and didn't want to accept anything the Fire Nation could offer at first, but that was just at first. In the oldest colonies, the Fire Nation coexisted with the locals fairly peacefully.

(Zuko did wish sometimes that his father focused more on showing the Fire Nation's good side to the other nations, instead of trying to conquer them as fast as possible. Their forces were spread thin defending all the new territories. In a few of the old colonies, the people were just about ready to fight on the Fire Nation's side. Why not work on getting more goodwill of that kind? But thoughts like that were disloyal. What did he know? It was not his place to say anything, and the proof of that was in the way he'd gotten himself banished. It was his place to help his father, his Firelord, do whatever it took to win this war. So he'd work on proving himself to his father first, and _then_ he would try to make a few suggestions. Not the other way around, no matter how he'd been unable to hold his tongue with Zhao.)

Fire itself was not like that. Even in its moments of destruction, it paved the way for new growth. They were _better_ than they had been a hundred years ago. The colonies lived better than they had a hundred years ago. At least the people he'd seen who hated the occupation usually had an actual reason, like having met one of the few bad apples of their nation, such as Zhao. But the Avatar was talking about fire itself, and everyone who had been born under its light. How dare the stupid Avatar pass judgment on a whole nation he'd never seen?

It took him several minutes of holding still before he finally felt in control of himself enough to write. "I have as much reason to hate the Fire Nation as anyone," except he didn't, "but I've sat around enough campfires in my life to be glad that fire exists." It was easier to talk in Uncle-like generalities. Any mention of specific people, and he'd blow his cover sky-high, and then the Avatar would blow him out of the sky.

Aang, who probably considered the argument over, didn't seem glad to hear that. "Campfires are good, but that's natural fire. No offense, but when a famous firebending master himself tells me that fire is only good for destruction, I believe him. I didn't want to at first, either, but he was right." There was genuine grief in Aang's voice.

Zuko had heard of Jeong Jeong. There was a reason the man, despite being a famous master, had had so few students even before he betrayed their country.

Katara, who had also been still and quiet the past several minutes, now clambered over to wrap an arm around Aang. "Aang, I keep telling you, I'm fine now. See?" She leaned against his back and brought her hands up in front of his face, then wrapped them back around him in a hug. "I might never have discovered that I have healing abilities if it hadn't happened. Stop agonizing, okay?"

Sokka snorted, apparently not as fine with whatever happened as Katara was. Aang shook his head, though he had to stop when Momo flew up to wrap himself around it, chittering madly. "Katara, I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but I burned you. I won't let it happen again."

Zuko began to get the picture, and it was all he could do to shake off the annoyance, or to stop himself from being distracted at the news of healing abilities. All young firebenders lost control of the fire at some point, burning someone, often themselves. They were taught not to let fear rule them. You got burned, you put salve on it, you picked yourself up and went on. Zuko had learned that lesson well. He'd shaken off that fear more than once, even the crushing fear he'd felt after the Agni Kai. And the Avatar was just giving up? Ah yes, his teacher was Jeong Jeong.

It was a good thing for the Fire Nation that its greatest threat was voluntarily crippling himself. Zuko bit his tongue and wrote nothing, but he couldn't help looking over at Aang every once in a while as they flew. Give up fire? Never to know its warmth, or the way it rushed through the body energizing everything during a fight? Never be able to chase the darkness away with a simple flick of the hand? Never be on fire with determination? Zuko could see it now; the way that the Avatar would start losing track of his goals little by little as the willpower to see things through flickered out. The way he'd sit and stare into space, minutes turning into hours, not knowing what he'd lost. The way he'd never be quite warm enough, not under the blankets, not with his friends, not even sharing body heat with a lover when he was old enough. It was a horrible fate, and it cost Zuko something not to warn even the enemy about it.

* * *

><p>Sokka was really beginning to wonder whether Blue's injuries had done something to his head. Why else would he be so spacey? It wasn't natural, holding that still for hours. They'd tried to involve him in conversation a couple of times, but nothing much came of it. He responded politely, and that was it. Sokka was getting tired of it.<p>

They landed for the night in another valley, a wooded one this time. Luanyang remained about half a day's flight away. Blue went off as before to eat alone. He refused the offer of Katara's cooking and took out some food of his own, which bothered Sokka on some level. It felt like Blue was withdrawing away from them, shutting them out, and Sokka thought that he really wanted Blue to quit that. In truth, Sokka wasn't quite sure how to be friends with a boy around his own age (and he was pretty sure by now that Blue wasn't an adult), having never known anyone like that in his village. Aang was his friend, sure, but he was in a class of his own. He silently thanked his experience with Suki – it had been humiliating at the time, but if he hadn't met her and her warriors, he would probably have tried to swagger about to impress Blue, and it would have ended at least as badly as his first encounter with Suki.

Sokka hurried through eating and setting up the tent, so by the time Blue came back, he was ready. Blue's posture spoke of tiredness, but Sokka figured it would do no harm to ask. "Hey again. Remember that move inspired by waterbending you were practicing? Could you show that one to me?

Again that hesitation before responding, but eventually, Blue shrugged and reached for the slate. "If you can find a big, sturdy branch, perhaps you can help me perfect it," he read in the flickering light of the campfire. "Aw yeah!" he exclaimed, and loped off to find said branch. It didn't take him long, though he had to use his machete to trim it down.

There was new writing on the slate by the time he came back. "Swing the branch at my head as hard as you can. If I have this right, I should be able to first block your attack, then push the branch back towards you."

Sokka felt a little queasy. "What happens if you don't block it?" he asked.

Blue just shrugged and held his swords at his sides. Sokka took a deep breath and swung carefully, ready to pull the strike if necessary.

In a flash, the swords were up, crossed where they bit into the wood. Sokka staggered from the impact, and Blue staggered back as he tried to free them. Once he did so, he sheathed the swords and picked up the slate again. "I still think it should work," he wrote, "but I'd really need another sword to experiment with the reverse part of the move."

"Aw," was all Sokka could say. He'd really been looking forward to experimenting. "Can't you do it with one sword? That way, you could lend me one of yours."

"I don't think so; to block an attack from the front, both swords are needed to provide equal counterforce. My idea was to push my swords up and outwards against the opponent's weapon, the way a wave pushes a boat."

"Wave, huh? What about from the side, just catching the other weapon and sort of maneuvering it like this?" Sokka asked as he demonstrated.

Blue stood still for a moment, then stepped to the side with the same flowing motion, bringing one arm up as if holding a sword. He shifted back and forth several times as if testing out the sensation, then tossed one of the swords to Sokka, who caught it neatly.

"New experiment," he wrote, and Sokka grinned. "From the side, you still have the problem of trying to catch the force of the blow with only one blade. No matter how good you are, your weapon will shift in your hand on impact. However, there may be a way of providing counterbalance for the sword with the arm itself, and your maneuvering idea will keep the blades in contact longer, with more opportunities to deflect."

For the next several minutes, they messed about with it, until Aang complained that he was trying to sleep, here.

They sat together by the fire, Blue doing his best to write quietly and Sokka whispering. "Still not the most effective of parries," Blue wrote, "but I could see it being useful in some situations. We'll have to work on it again later."

Sokka smiled so widely it hurt a bit. "We will. 'Night, Blue. Don't let the nightmares get ya."

Blue went still again for just a second, then inclined his head. He rolled out his bedroll some ways away from the rest of the group, but not, Sokka noted, as far away as the first night. Sokka crawled into the tent and fell asleep instantly.

When Katara woke him, he badly didn't want to leave the warmth of his bedroll. The morning had dawned grey and drizzly, and even Katara was grumbling as she tried to keep the fire under the pot of rice going. Only Blue was still doing his crazy strength thing outside, though he was shivering in the rain; the rest of them huddled as much inside the tent as they could.

When Katara's grumbling reached a certain volume, Blue paused and came over to the fire. After studying it closely, he added some logs in a pattern, stirred the coals, and soon, the fire blazed up more strongly. Katara smiled her thanks at him, but Sokka wasn't sure he'd noticed, as he'd continued his routine.

"There is such a thing as being overdedicated!" he called from his perch inside the tent. Blue ignored him.

"Yeah, the monks always warned us that too much of a good thing leads to friction burns!" Aang called. This at least got a double take, as everyone tried to decide whether Aang was aware of what he'd said or not. With that innocent face of his, it was hard to believe that he knew, but then, how did he know to say it?

"Anyone not ready to eat in five minutes is a greybearded hog-monkey!" Katara put in.

Blue turned to her and threw his hands up into the air in a manner somewhere between frustration and challenge, then continued his exercises. Yet five minutes later, he came to sit with the rest of them by the side of the tent, though he gently pushed away the bowl Katara offered him.

Katara, who had grinned smugly at him and Aang when she'd succeeded where they'd failed, now frowned deeply. "Don't tell me you're not hungry," she scolded. "You keep exerting yourself, and you've been eating maybe twice a day at best, and more like once, all because you have this thing about not letting people see your face."

Blue just stretched and leaned back against the wall of the tent, letting it cradle him.

Katara's eyes narrowed and she stared at Blue. Sokka knew that look; she could keep it up for hours. Sokka wondered whether Blue was keeping his eyes closed behind the mask, to escape it. To break the stalemate, he quickly offered, "If he doesn't want to eat it, I will!"

"You are so very kind, Sokka," Katara grumbled, and thrust the bowl at him without looking. She seemed really upset by Blue's behavior, and Sokka resolved to give the other boy a few tips on getting along with his sister when he could.

Except maybe he wouldn't need so much of a lesson. When they were done eating and Katara started scrubbing the bowls roughly with a handful of tough grasses, Blue silently joined her and scrubbed, too. Very soon, Katara's tight shoulders slumped in relaxation. "Thanks," she told him quietly, then raised her voice. "See, Sokka, this is how a gentleman behaves! You could stand to learn something!"

"Gentleman," Sokka snorted. "He's just trying to get on your good side."

"Well, let me tell you, it's working," Katara announced with a touch of sarcasm.

Blue looked over towards where his slate lay, and Aang fetched it for him without needing to be asked. Blue hunched over it awkwardly, trying to shield it from the rain with his body as he wrote. When he showed it to Sokka, it read, "I thought you liked your sister?"

"I do," Sokka sighed, "but you know how it is."

Blue hesitated for a long moment. "I'm not sure I know. Why don't you keep on her 'good side' if you like her?"

Sokka didn't read that part aloud, but drew Blue aside so they could talk more privately. "First of all, I _am_ on her good side. You haven't seen her bad side yet, but trust me, you will know it when it comes. But to answer your question… it's not because I don't want to help her," he explained. "It's just… complicated. I'm, I'm not even entirely sure she likes being helped. I mean, she says she does, but she gets almost angry when I try. She takes it better from people who aren't her brother, but if you ever do too much for her, you'll see it. She's always trying to do things for others, surely you've noticed?" Blue nodded. "I think she wants to always have a lot to do. She's been that way ever since Mom…" his throat tightened and he couldn't go on for a moment.

Aang hurried over to them. "Hey, we ought to get going. Can you continue this later?"

Blue gave him a long look, then nodded solemnly.

The ride on the bison was quieter than usual, the cold and wet having dampened everyone's spirits. Sokka huddled into his parka, which kept out the wet but not the clammy, and watched Katara do the same. Blue, who didn't even have his cloak any longer thanks to Aang, wrapped a blanket around himself at first. Then he crawled out of the saddle and lay in an undignified heap directly on Appa's shoulders, partly tucked underneath the front of the saddle. Aang didn't seem to feel the cold, as usual, but he flicked irritably at the trickles of waters down his scalp from time to time. Momo huddled down inside Aang's shirt, ears flat against his head.

The drizzle turned into rain.

Sokka realized after a while that he was feeling oddly warmer than before. It was a sensation similar to having just eaten a big hot bowl of sea prune stew, and his stomach rumbled hungrily at the thought. It didn't make much sense, but the warmth was too comfortable to worry about. He drifted off into his own thoughts.

They made good time, the rain eventually stopped, and the peaceful ride was punctuated only by one outburst, at lunchtime. Blue had refused food again, and Katara flew into a temper, dumped her bedroll atop his head, and swore that either he could make a hiding-tent of it and eat, or she would rip off his mask herself and force-feed him. Blue obeyed, but he was clearly resentful of it. _Welcome __to __the __fringes __of __Katara__'__s __bad__ side,_ Sokka thought sympathetically. He tried to get Blue to join the conversation again, and today, Blue didn't make them drag every word out of him, but actually contributed a few of his own unprompted. Sokka noticed that Blue was most willing to talk about the places he'd been and the curious things he'd seen there, but when questioned about details of this or that incident, he often said that he hadn't been at the place long enough to know more. An interesting guy, certainly, and Sokka wondered what made him keep moving so often.

In mid-afternoon, Aang finally announced "We're nearly there!" as he pointed towards the walls of the city in the distance. His smile suddenly grew troubled, and he squinted. "That… doesn't look right," he said.

"What?" They all scrambled forward to look. After a little while, Sokka could see it – a plume of smoke rising in the air. Far too big for a bonfire.

"Fire Nation," he breathed through clenched teeth. "Aang, be careful not to let them see you."

"We can't just do nothing if the town is being attacked," protested Aang.

"I know, I'm just saying don't let them see you!"

They flew closer. Sokka, busy looking, started at a touch on his shoulder. He turned to receive the slate. "If this is an attack, where are the soldiers? I can't see war machines, or a camp, or anyone armored," it read.

"Maybe they've already been beaten back?" Sokka brightened. "That makes things easier."

There was the sound of a rapid scratch of chalk. "They might still be hiding in the woods."

"Wait, look," Katara put in, "the fire is just on one side of the town, and I can't see any breach in the walls. How did the soldiers get in?"

"Ambush?" Sokka guessed. "Aang, new plan. Fly high into the clouds while passing over the treetops, then drop down into the middle of town. Let's find out what's going on without revealing ourselves to attack."

Aang nodded tensely and flicked the reins. In minutes, they descended, wet again from their trip through the cloud, but that didn't matter. Below them was a scene of chaos, but with a line of people running to and from a well carrying buckets. The buckets looked tiny in proportion to the many houses on fire. Off to one side, dust swirled in the air as a small group of Earthbenders fought the fire with sand and dirt. They were going slowly, apparently afraid of crushing any survivors still inside. A second group of earthbenders was busy raising earthen walls in the streets to keep new buildings from catching on fire.

"The wounded are over there," Katara pointed to a row of tents. "I'm going to see if I can help them. Aang, I know the well is far away, but try to bend water out of it towards the fire."

They were close enough now to hear the cries and screams. Aang was pale but determined. Katara took off the moment Appa landed, and Aang didn't even dismount before he took a breath and started bending water out of the well. It was an impressive arc – the people with buckets paused to stare – but it wasn't going to reach the fire. Still, Aang strained, teeth clenched. The water inched forward a bit, but not by much.

The sudden sound of a hand striking the saddle startled them all, and the water mostly went back into the well. Aang raised his hands again, but Blue suddenly grabbed at his wrists, twisting his arms back. "Let go of me!" Aang yelled at the same time that Sokka shouted, "Are you crazy?"

Blue held on as Aang struggled. Sokka launched himself at him, trying to break his grip. Blue hunched over, not returning any of Sokka's jabs, but not letting go. Aang suddenly stopped struggling. "Is this like at the fortress? Do you have a reason?"

Blue nodded rapidly, released Aang, and scribbled furiously. "You interfered with their bucket brigade for no result. There's another way." Sokka looked over to where Blue pointed, and had to admit that the moment Aang stopped bending the water, the people with buckets had swung back into frantic action.

"What do you mean?" Aang asked, but Blue was already continuing to write.

"You can firebend. Put the fire out."

"What? I can't do that! I told you I wasn't going to firebend again!"

Blue thrust his head forward until his mask nearly touched Aang's face, and Sokka knew he was blindingly angry. After a few seconds, Blue pulled back, breathing heavily, to write, "You said you didn't want people hurt. They're going to be hurt if you don't put the fire out. It's the quickest way."

"But I don't know how!" Aang protested.

An incoherent sound escaped from Blue, close to a strangled scream. "The fire hater didn't teach you how to put out fire?"

"No. He talked a lot about control, but… no."

"I've seen them do it," Blue wrote. "I'll show you the gestures." He vaulted over to take the reins, and took them in closer to the fire. It was stiflingly hot, and the acrid smoke was nothing Sokka ever wanted to breathe. He felt desperate, like a third wheel, like there was nothing he could do to help.

They jumped down. Blue tugged Aang forward, dropped into a stance, and did a move with his arms, sweeping them down slowly. Aang copied him. Blue put his hands atop Aang's and guided him through a corrected version. Aang nodded, determination settling over his face anew, and focused on the fire as he did the move. Nothing happened. Aang's face fell, and Sokka had to fight tears from forming at the corners of his eyes.

Blue gestured impatiently, and showed Aang the move again. Aang tried, but he still couldn't do it. "I can't," he whispered.

Implacably, Blue repeated the move. Sokka startled – was it his imagination, or did the flames just dip lower? Aang folded his hands over his chest. "It's not working!" he shouted. "Let's go and help with the bucket brigade – at least then we'll be doing something useful!"

Blue scrambled up Appa's side, and Aang's mouth hung open at how easily he'd convinced him. But then he jumped down again, slate in hand. The chalk screeched as Blue drew an emphatic circle around the words he'd written earlier – "You can firebend." To it, he added, "Don't try to take on all of it at once. Just focus on that one section of wall."

"But –" Aang started.

Blue smashed his fist into the nearest wall, but then unexpectedly knelt in front of Aang. "Do it. I know you can," he wrote, more gently than before.

Blue trusted in Aang. It was only Aang who didn't trust himself. "Go for it, buddy," Sokka added.

Aang's face twisted with what looked like grief, but he turned to face the wall, half of it already burned away. He took his stance, breathed loudly, lowered his arms – and the fire bent down, down, and went out.

"Wow, I did it!" Aang somersaulted eight feet into the air, then came down firmly. House by house, he made his way down the street, putting out more and more of the fire at a time with each try. Sokka and Blue trailed him like an honor guard, and then more like an actual guard, as the people stared and whispered. Sokka kept himself ready. He might not be much use with fire, but he could defend his friend.

The earthbenders and the people with buckets had in the meanwhile been doing their share of work, and the three groups eventually met around the last of the embers. The leader of the earthbenders stepped forward as soon as those were out. "Thank you for your help," she said, her voice low and hoarse. "But who are you and where did you come from?"

Sokka jumped in before Aang could answer. "You don't need to worry. He's the Avatar."

"My name is Aang," Aang said with some embarrassment.

"The Avatar!" the woman smiled. "I'm Commander Wei. We have heard rumors, of course, but I never quite believed them. Welcome! You are very welcome here. Our town is in a bit of disarray at the moment, but we can certainly find accommodations for you."

Aang bowed deeply. "Thank you. Can you tell us what happened? Were you attacked?"

"No," Wei replied with some surprise. "It was a house fire that got out of hand. Here in the poor district, the houses are too close together and there is too much flammable material around, making fires hard to stop. Especially the day after a festival," her mouth twisted in a brief grimace. "But you are tired?" Aang was swaying a bit. "I can take you to Governor Quin Fu – he'll find a place for you to rest in."

"Please do," Aang said, "but we need to find Katara first. She went to help with the wounded."

"I will be glad to take you to her," Wei bowed. "This way. May I know the names of your other companions?"

"I'm Sokka," he introduced himself. "That's Blue Spirit – we call him Blue for short. He can't talk, unfortunately."

Blue, who Sokka just noticed had been carrying his slate all the while, started scribbling as he walked. "You make it sound like a big problem, but you talk enough for the both of us," he wrote.

Sokka scoffed. "Glad to know someone appreciates me."

Blue shoved him gently in retaliation. From him, it was like a grin, and Sokka grinned back.

Shortly, they came upon the area where the wounded had been laid out on hastily-assembled bedrolls. The stench of vomit, herbs, and burned flesh rolled over them. Aang swallowed hard, staring at a man on the ground whose arm was blackened. In the midst of this unholy mess, Sokka saw the blue-clad figure of his sister. She was bent over one of the victims, and her every movement was frighteningly slow. "Katara!" he called, and ran for her.

She looked up, again with that slowness. "Katara, are you all right?" he demanded as he reached her and pulled her into an embrace.

"Just… tired…" she said. "This was… harder than I… expected."

A man nearby with a steaming bowl in his hands turned around. "You know her?"

"Brother," said Sokka shortly.

"Oh, good. Maybe you can convince her to rest. She's been wonderful, but she doesn't seem to know the meaning of 'Physician, heal thyself.'"

"Will do," Sokka nodded. To Katara, he said, "See, they've got everything under control here. Let's go."

"I still need to…"

"Aang needs you too," he interrupted firmly.

"Oh." She finished whatever she had been doing with her glowy water and stood up creakily. Sokka held her as she leaned heavily against him, and together, they made their way back to the group.

In the time he'd been talking to Katara, Blue had turned Aang away from the scene and was still holding him by the shoulders. Without that support, Aang looked as if he would have collapsed. He was taking deep, heaving breaths.

"Let's go," announced Sokka, and they went.

The calm streets near the governor's residence, shaded by magnificent old trees, made a stark contrast to the scene they'd left behind. Well-dressed people strolled along the streets. Sokka felt almost guilty that they could walk away, but they did need to rest.

They let Wei do most of the talking with the governor, and soon, they were shown into a spacious, clean apartment. Katara slumped on the futon instantly and fell asleep, Aang perched on one of the chairs as if unsure what to do with himself, Sokka kept an eye on the two of them, and Blue stalked around the apartment, checking it for safety or some such. Sokka was beginning to suspect Blue of being as much a worrywart as Katara.

When he was done, he sat down, but only long enough to write "Thank you for bringing me here. Consider your debt repaid."

"Wait, wait, what?" said Aang, his words a little slurred.

"We just got here," Sokka protested. "We're all tired, and they promised us dinner soon. Can't you stay till after?"

Blue shook his head.

"Well, how long will this take?"

A shrug was the only answer.

"So you're just going to take off?"

Blue hesitated a long moment – Sokka was sure he saw him swallow nervously – then wrote, "If you were willing to do me a favor, I would ask you to make another small trip for me."

Aang stood up. "Of course, Lee. You're good company, even if I didn't owe you my life."

Blue dropped the chalk and stared at Aang. Then he picked the chalk back up. "Then I'll see you later. And I said you owe me nothing. Do me the courtesy of believing it."

"If you say so," Aang shrugged with a small smile. "Your math skills stink, though. You've done nothing but help us ever since we met."

"You definitely need help. Yes, that's sarcasm," Blue wrote.

"He's got you there, Aang," Sokka twitted him.

Aang grinned. "I do, don't I?" More seriously, he added, "What you did today – how did you know I could do that? I didn't know."

Blue looked at his hands for a moment, then wrote, "I've seen you in action. You're a talented kid. When you're too busy to doubt yourself, you accomplish a lot."

Aang's face lit up. "Thanks."

Blue suddenly looked very uncomfortable. He bowed quickly to Aang, then took a step forward to grasp Sokka's forearm. Sokka barely had time to return the gesture before Blue left via the window.

"Whoa," Sokka commented. "What do you think that was about?"

Aang shook his head in bewilderment. "Let's ask him when he comes back."

Sokka nodded. He was looking forward to that, but at the same time, a bit of dread began uncoiling in the pit of his stomach. Surely it was pure coincidence, about the flames lowering? It had to be a coincidence. No way was Blue a firebender.


	5. Bounty Hunters and Healers

**Chapter 5**

Zuko spent most of the first hour simply hiding behind thick bushes in a nearby park. His black outfit and mask were not well-suited to daylight sneaking, and the streets were full enough of people that he'd likely be spotted if he climbed on the roof.

The sunset took a long time here, in the north. He had no idea what to do with himself. After all, he didn't exactly need to pursue the Avatar right now. No need to spend hours with a telescope sweeping the sky, no need to sort through countless shards of local gossip for that one clue. Uncle would have offered him tea at this point, but Uncle and the crew must have been over halfway to North Port by now. Zuko cursed again his lack of foresight. If the ship were here, he'd just snatch the Avatar and go.

He'd travelled with the Avatar's group so that he would have time to plan, but he still couldn't really come up with anything. If anything, he had only found out that there were more obstacles than he had expected. The sheer power of this kid, too – from helpless flailing to effortless command of fire in minutes… maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to teach him that, but what else could he have done? When fire raged out of control, you put it out. Every firebender knew that. Since he couldn't do it himself without revealing who he was, he had to do something else instead. Anyway, putting out a blaze was not the same thing as blocking a fire blast in battle. The Fire Nation still had the advantage there.

The "capture" part still remained the easiest thing. The "holding on" part still seemed nearly impossible. Tie him hand and foot? Throw him into a metal coffin like the ones used to pin down earthbenders? Don't give him more than a cup of water at a time? He didn't want to think of those details. He was a prince and a warrior, not a prison guard. He didn't like the way life seemed inclined to force him to become the latter.

After a while, he pulled out his emergency kit, which contained needle and thread, and started redoing the stitches on his shirt. Katara was right – this way was much better, and now the fabric would stop bunching up in that annoying line beneath his arm. The manual task was somewhat soothing, but it didn't take long. He sighed as he pulled the shirt back on and attempted to meditate.

His thoughts wouldn't coalesce around anything concrete. He kept getting flashes which disrupted his concentration: of the Avatar's face after that compliment, of Sokka learning to wield broadswords, of Katara's hand on his forearm that first night. Agni, he missed his meditation table. He missed being able to openly wield fire. It had taken a lot out of him not to firebend himself today and let the Avatar do it.

Aang had done well, with just a small nudge from Zuko. All that power – why waste it for years in a prison cell? Could it be directed, used for good?

He'd told the Avatar's group that he had someone to meet, but of course he didn't. This wouldn't ordinarily bother him; all he had to do was wait a few hours and then come back, and in the morning, he would continue the deception. But as long as he was being all wistful like this – he wouldn't have minded being able to go see Uncle right now. Uncle would make him drink that horrible tea, and use a lot of incomprehensible metaphors, but Zuko knew from experience that his thoughts would stop racing like this in his uncle's presence.

Zuko entertained himself for a while trying to come up with the metaphors Uncle might use. Perhaps "Do not let your thoughts be like this tangled bush, Zuko, but straighten them out by…" Zuko struggled to come up with the next part. Setting the bush on fire? That didn't seem quite right. Combing it? Still not it – where would he find a comb like that? Cutting it apart with his swords? That seemed closer, and appropriately enough not something you could do to actual thoughts, but too simple yet for one of Uncle's sayings.

At last it got dark enough that Zuko could slip in and out of shadows. Rather than continue sitting on the ground, he decided he might as well be the Blue Spirit while he could. He didn't need to listen for the gossip about the Avatar, but perhaps he could still find out something useful. Maybe he would come across a mugging in progress and be able to help – that had happened a couple of times in the past. If not, he could always use more practice in sneaking around, and once he found a deserted area, he could put in some sword practice, too.

Oh, yes, the rooftop world was much more interesting than the one seen from behind the bush. Not terribly exciting, but it was a side of the world he didn't get to see as the prince, or the commander of a ship. Here was the noise of a celebration, close to twenty people crammed into a small room without seeming to mind. There a father was reading his child a bedtime story – Zuko paused to listen, as it was not one he'd heard before. This small pleasure was interrupted by the sound of someone two windows down berating a schoolchild for bringing home poor marks and then having the gall to stay out late with friends. Zuko, who hated peering in on the moments people would want to keep private, moved on and did his best to forget he'd heard that. It embarrassed him even more than usual; after all, right now, he didn't even have the excuse of needing to listen in.

Another few houses down, a man and woman were discussing local politics, which could always be useful. Their main concerns did not seem related to the war, but to the increasing cost of trade, the overambitiousness of two city councilors, and the difficulty of getting any sort of compromise out of the governor. Zuko marked that latter fact, considering the Avatar's group stayed under the governor's protection here.

Down in the poor district, many people were still moving about despite the lateness of the hour, rebuilding what had been destroyed by the fire. Nobody seemed to be sleeping in the streets, in marked contrast to a few other disaster areas Zuko had seen on his travels. There were children crying for their missing toys and belongings, and adults shushed them with resigned looks on their faces, but only two or three voices seemed to be wailing in grief for the dead. It could have been so much worse.

Appa was not where they'd left him; the bison had probably returned to Aang by now. It seemed a peaceful town, with nothing to worry about, but something still nagged at Zuko's subconscious about the people he saw.

He went back about halfway, to an enclosed courtyard behind some sort of civic building which stood dark and empty for the night. The swords swooped through the familiar stances, almost carrying him along with them instead of the other way around. He focused on the practice and let everything else go.

Only later, as he finally went back to the apartment, did it hit him. Yes, the Earth Kingdom-controlled cities were strict about not letting anyone from the Fire Nation inside. However, outside the walls, the mingling of colonies and villages had been going on for a hundred years. Zuko had seen enough in his travels to know that each viewed the other with suspicion and mistrust. Still, trade was trade, and living together for years broke down some barriers. Also, despite strictly enforced non-contact rules in the Army, no punishments would keep soldiers away from brothels completely. Thus, children of mixed parentage – and grandchildren, and so on – were not entirely rare. They often gravitated to the larger cities, where they could be one more face amongst the crowd. In sneaking about the cities, Zuko had often seen those faces. He hadn't seen a single one in Luanyang so far.

The mystery occupied him, but fortunately, not so much that he failed to notice a couple of extra dark shadows lurking near the apartment. Soundlessly, Zuko moved in as close as he could. There were four of them, silent and unmoving, but Zuko doubted they meant well. So far, they hadn't seemed to spot him. He crouched on the roof and waited.

Half an hour passed before a fifth shadow slunk in to join them. The newcomer whispered something which Zuko couldn't entirely hear, but words like "asleep" and "second target" gave him the idea.

"What do you mean?!" one of the others whispered a bit too loud.

Fragments of whispers floated up to the roof. "…easier… knock… bounty…" Zuko's ears pricked up at that last. Somehow, these people knew of the wanted posters – likely enough, there was a signboard outside the walls which these men had seen. And neither the Avatar nor the Blue Spirit had exactly hidden themselves today.

Zuko cursed himself for becoming as sloppy as the children. He ought to have known. Just because this was an Earth Kingdom town, it didn't mean that everyone here would wish the Avatar well, especially when gold was involved. Zuko's eyes narrowed. No one was going to capture the Avatar besides himself, and if they thought _he'd_ ever be an easy catch, they were wrong. But there was no time for self-recriminations; the men were starting to take out weapons and nets. Zuko put every grain of acrobatic skill he had to use as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop and somersaulted into the apartment through the open window. He wasted no time in shaking Aang awake, not bothering to hush the sleepy questions. If the men heard voices, they'd pause, and a pause was what they all needed. He didn't have time to answer the questions, though, as he went around to wake Sokka and Katara, too.

Sokka was a heavy sleeper, but when he did wake up, he automatically went for his weapons. Katara proved surprisingly difficult to wake, and Zuko finally remembered that she'd exhausted herself today and was probably still sleeping it off. But wake her he did. By the time he was done, both Aang and Sokka had coordinated themselves enough to get into defensive poses on either side of the window, just in time to see a canister fly in. Something began to hiss from the canister. Zuko smelled a sickly sweet scent for a moment before Aang whirled the canister back out the window with a twirl of his staff. There was a muffled hiss of pain outside, and Zuko was oddly reminded of Aang's story about flinging pies. However, once the bounty hunters realized they had been spotted, the wall suddenly came down with a crash. They had an earthbender in their group.

Zuko spotted him quickly – there was only one man without shoes on. Vaulting over the rubble, Zuko swung at the earthbender with his swords in mid-air, but only managed a shallow slice on the man's left arm. The moment he came down on the other side of the man, he quickly executed a turn and a half, his swords out to clear a space around himself. The earthbender turned to face him, punching rock after rock at him. So long as he was focused on Zuko, it served to keep him away from supporting his fellow bounty hunters, but Zuko was forced on the defensive. He had no time to even see how the others were doing as he desperately deflected the rocks. Each impact sent painful jarring sensations up his arms, and he had to fight to keep a grip on his swords. This would be so much easier with fire, but Zuko wasn't willing to give up his cover just yet.

He kept up his defense, searching his opponent for any opening. At last, he saw one and lunged forward, his swords held low. The earthbender was quick, and swung down a rock-enclosed fist that Zuko didn't quite dodge, but he'd accomplished a respectable cut across the man's legs. His own breath came shallowly due to the bruised ribs, but he ignored that. _See, Uncle, sometimes it's useful to fight with the muscles rather than the breath,_ he thought for an irrational moment. _"Do it again,"_ his uncle's unimpressed voice sounded through his mind, and Zuko fought on.

Deflect, deflect, dodge, lunge, deflect – jump high to slice at the branches of the tree above them. The falling branches distracted the earthbender for a critical moment. Zuko put a lot of force behind the blow, and the earthbender flew backwards till he struck a decorative statue. It didn't knock him out, but it dazed him for the few seconds necessary for Zuko to spring forward, flip him, and twist his arms up behind his back. After tugging out the rope wrapped around the man's waist with one hand, he quickly tied him up. Panting, he looked up. One man lay on the ground out cold – courtesy of Sokka's boomerang, if that cut on his temple was anything to go by. The other three were still fighting, but defending themselves rather than attacking. Probably, if Aang didn't dodge so much, they would have been defeated already. He was an impressive sight, weaving about the men at high speed on a ball of air and sending out strong blasts with his staff, but he wasn't knocking them out, the idiot. Katara guarded Aang's back, lashing the attackers with water.

Sokka was nowhere to be seen. No, there he was – he'd gone for reinforcements. City guards rushed in, and the three remaining attackers quickly put up their hands in surrender. However, one of them then pulled off the cloth concealing his face, and the guards gasped. "Councilor Huan!" one of them exclaimed.

"That's right," the man replied coldly. "And you interrupted me in the middle of a delicate task I was carrying out for my brother. The Governor wanted this handled quietly."

"But the Governor didn't say…"

"Delicate task, guard. After all, the people might be upset to hear that the Avatar is in league with the Fire Nation."

"What?" cried Aang. "You're lying! You attacked us without provocation, and I'm certainly not in league with the Fire Nation!"

Zuko had heard enough. While the guards looked between the two groups with worried and puzzled expressions, he used their distraction to move back into the room and start gathering up everyone's belongings. Sokka quickly caught on and helped him. In moments, they were ready to go. Out in the courtyard, Aang still argued while the Councilor loudly interrupted every sentence. Katara finally doused him with a bubble of water, and while Zuko heartily approved in theory, in practice, it made the guards reach for their weapons. Hastily leaping between the Avatar and the guards, Zuko gestured towards Aang's staff, made a swirling motion with his sword in the direction of the guards, then jerked the hilt backwards.

Aang grinned and immediately created the requested blast of air that blew their opponents backwards. They ran, and as soon as they turned the corner, Aang pulled out the bison whistle and blew it. Behind them, they could hear pursuit, so they couldn't stop just yet. Zuko led the group down a few twisty alleys, silently thankful to the chance which had him observe this area from the rooftops earlier. The moment they reached a wider street, Appa swooped in with Momo clinging to one horn. They all scrambled up the bison and were off without further delay.

As they flew away, everyone's attention was drawn to Katara, who lay sprawled limply across the saddle. She had fought skillfully and kept up perfectly on the run, so what could be wrong with her? Sokka shook her frantically, but she only moaned quietly. "Are you hurt? Where?" he begged her to answer. He turned her over to check for blood, but there was none to be seen.

For several minutes, she remained unresponsive to every plea. Even Aang's attempt to fan her with his airbending (which gusted strong enough to half-lift her off the saddle before he got himself under control) didn't work. Finally, she mumbled, "Tired… let me sleep, Sokka."

Sokka dropped his hands to his sides, but now Zuko was alarmed. He recalled some of Uncle's more colorful stories about the aftermath of a battle. It took him more time that he liked to find the slate, packed in hastily as it was. "She may have a concussion," he wrote. "I'll try to check her head for injuries." Sokka looked at him in anguish and nodded.

Zuko didn't really trust himself to know what he was looking for as he ran his fingertips over Katara's head carefully. Still, there didn't seem to be any bumps or soft spots, and she didn't react with pain to the touch. She didn't react at all, in fact. "Nothing," he wrote. "I don't know what it can be."

Sokka swore – the first time Zuko heard him do so. "Aang, we need to find a healer _now_."

"I've been looking!" Aang leaned out even more precariously over Appa's forehead.

Sokka tore at his pack, then pulled out a map and squinted at it in the moonlight. Zuko felt useless. He couldn't even summon up a flame to help Sokka see, and he couldn't do anything for Katara.

"Nearest village in this direction should be coming up in the next ten minutes," Sokka finally said. "It's a small one, though; I don't know if they'd have a healer. Blue, do you know?"

He shook his head regretfully. That wasn't a detail he'd ever paid attention to, on his travels.

"We'll check," Aang said grimly. "There has to be someone who knows at least a little medicine. And if that turns out not to be enough, we'll check the next village, and the one after that. I promise." He drew in a breath through clenched teeth. "Monkeyfeathers! Why did they think I was in league with the Fire Nation? We could have just returned to the city – _they've_ got healers.

"I'm fairly sure they were just bounty hunters. The one who was the councilor used his authority and lied to get out of a tight spot," Zuko wrote.

"So we _can_ go back? Why didn't you say so earlier?!" Aang was already pulling at Appa's reins.

Zuko shook his head frantically. "No; they would still be inclined to trust one of their own over you. By the time we established the truth, it might be too late."

Aang clenched his fists and silently turned back onto their previous course. Zuko almost wished that the Avatar _was_ in league with the Fire Nation. They could go to one of the nearby outposts, then, and his own task would be so much easier… really, why shouldn't the Avatar ally himself with the Fire Nation? They both wanted what was best for the world, after all.

A few minutes later, they landed. They were in luck. The noise had woken up everyone around them, and when Aang demanded to know if they had a healer, they pointed out her house without asking delaying questions. Aang lifted Katara off Appa with his airbending, and Sokka and Zuko supported her between them as they moved quickly to the healer's house. Someone ran ahead of them, and the elderly woman came out to meet them on the porch. She took one look at Katara and motioned for them to bring her inside, where a middle-aged man in the uniform of an apprentice was already building up the fire.

The three of them hovered around the edges of the room as they waited for the verdict.

"Superficially, there's nothing wrong with her," the healer pronounced after a swift yet thorough examination. "I'll need to look closer. Everyone out."

They exited, including the apprentice. After a few minutes, the healer beckoned them back inside. "Start making tea," she ordered her apprentice as she thrust a small jar into his hands. "Two spoonfuls." He quietly obeyed. "Is your friend a bender?" the healer demanded.

"Yes," Sokka and Aang chorused.

"I thought so," she nodded. "You don't need to look so worried. She'll be fine; her chi has been depleted, but a little rest and rejuvenating herbs will build it back up. So long as she doesn't try to overexert herself again, that is."

Zuko silently counted – using her healing abilities on many people for almost the first time, then too little sleep, then a battle – he should have figured it out. He'd put himself into a similar state once or twice, although Uncle usually stopped him long before that point. He should've known to watch her more closely. Though the fact that she'd hidden all signs until they reached safety made his respect for her increase.

He suddenly became aware that the healer's piercing stare had landed on him. "Young man, don't you have any manners? Why are you wearing a mask inside a house?"

The slate was still on Appa's saddle. Sokka answered for him. "It's not disrespectful, ma'am. He has some bad scars, and he can't talk, so he feels more comfortable with the mask on." Zuko nodded, and bowed his apology.

She snorted. "I've seen my share of scars and more. Take it off."

Zuko shook his head and backed up.

She looked at him, and Zuko had the odd feeling that more than her eyes were involved. "As you wish," she finally said. "So long as you behave yourself, we'll get along fine."

There had been a slight but definite emphasis on the word "behave." Did she know something? She had examined Katara's chi somehow; perhaps she'd examined his as well. Did she know he was a firebender? Zuko leaned back against the wall as if relaxing, but remained on high alert.

They all sat or stood around, waiting for Katara to wake up – it could take up to three hours, according to the healer. Aang had managed to engage her in a conversation, complete with introductions and questions about life in the village. Zuko fought not to lose his alertness; he wanted to sleep, but it wasn't safe. They needed to go as quickly as possible, and the wait was agonizing. It was like the scene at the Abbey all over again.

What he wouldn't give for it to be that venom, again. He could touch Katara's forehead under the pretense of checking on her, and they'd be out of there in minutes. What she needed, though, was more chi energy, not a burning away.

"_The breath becomes energy in the body,"_ he remembered his uncle saying more than once. He knew that firebending healers would often manipulate their patients' chi, but of course he'd never learned those arts. Nobody could make Katara breathe more, either.

Breath… his uncle had given him such an odd look after the Avatar had first escaped him, and he'd asked a number of questions. Something to do with breath. What was it? Right, the soldiers. "They have been completely covered in ice for minutes, but they're breathing normally, and they don't have any frost burns," his uncle had commented. It was odd – all three were spearmen rather than firebenders – but despite his uncle's probing, he couldn't remember having done anything to them. Not then, and not now.

"How were you breathing?" his uncle had asked. He hadn't paid attention – he'd been hanging off an icy anchor chain at the time, hoping not to lose any more skin to it. "Were you aware of them being encased in ice?" Somewhat, but he hadn't been thinking about them in his predicament. "Do you remember feeling particularly warm?" Well, he had been trying to raise his body temperature so as not to freeze.

"What are you getting at, Uncle?" he had finally snapped.

Uncle had spread his hands beatifically. "Nothing, Prince Zuko. Merely an old man's curiosity." Then he'd gone over to the men, who had just been freed from the last of the ice covering, to talk to them in a low tone. Judging by the baffled looks, they hadn't had much to tell him, either. At the time, he'd chalked the whole episode up to his uncle's delight in being annoyingly mysterious and dismissed it from his mind.

So why did he remember it now?

He finally started to think it through. Three non-firebenders covered in ice. They ought to have shown some signs of frost injury, but didn't. The firebenders hadn't started to free them until the Avatar had escaped, so they couldn't have been kept warm until then. Well, Uncle had come out on the deck shortly before that, but since he'd been the one asking those questions, he couldn't have done it.

Zuko had been tracking who was on the deck by their heat, waiting for a safe moment to climb up. It had been freezing and his hand hurt, but he couldn't let go. The trickles of blood turned cold on exposure to air, and he would need to climb the icy chain, and touch it again and again with his bare hands. He'd raised his body temperature; it took a little while. Usually, he could do it faster than that. He had tried to ignore it at the time, embarrassed by his latest ineptitude in firebending. Why had it taken that long? He strained to remember. Oh yes, the new waves of cold that kept passing through him.

A wild surmise shook Zuko. Was it his own cold he'd felt? Surely it couldn't be anything else, and yet… Uncle had obviously suspected something, and had suspected Zuko specifically, the only firebender in the vicinity at the time. He'd been tracking people by their heat. The moment Katara encased three of them in ice, he ought to have felt it. He didn't remember noticing anything like that, though. Just the cold…

He'd been busy surviving, not paying attention to the details. Was it possible he'd somehow warmed those three crewmen at the same time as he'd been warming himself? It seemed ridiculous on the surface of it; he hadn't touched them. He knew how to raise another person's temperature, but only through touch. He could do it through clothes, however. His hand on the anchor chain, the anchor chain touching the hull, the hull supporting the deck on which the crewmen stood, and all of it metal, which transmits heat well.

No, then there would have been signs of melting ice around their feet. Assuming that he did have anything to do with it, in the first place.

Zuko's eyes had closed during this internal review. Without opening them, he expanded his heat sense, curious as to how much he could tell about his surroundings just from that. He could feel the other people in the room, of course, and the fire crackling in the stove. He knew who they were, since they hadn't moved, but could he tell them apart if they had?

The smallest, yet brightly flickering flame was Aang. The tallest must be the apprentice. The healer's flame was extremely intense, but somehow its center was lower to the ground than the others'. He guessed that came from being a rooted earthbender. Sokka's flame was surprisingly steady, given his outward awkwardness. Katara's was currently horizontal, and – weaker than normal. Drawn inward, too. That depleted chi, that must be what it looked like to his heat sense. Zuko couldn't help having a moment of delight at this new discovery before getting down to business.

If he'd gotten the crewmen warmed up over distance, he ought to be able to do it for Katara. The only problem was that he had no idea whether or how he'd done it. Focus on the heatsense, he told himself. That was the key the first time. Feel the cold and drive it out.

Except he didn't feel cold now. Katara's fire was as warm as ever. It wasn't the real problem here. She just needed more chi to help her regain what she'd lost.

He breathed deeply and quietly, stoking up his own inner fire. As he stopped focusing on the others individually, the various sources of warmth in the room blended, like an out-of-focus image. The warmth felt right, with crests around the people and the stove and valleys in between. Around where Katara lay, however, there was something like an empty spot.

Zuko almost slapped himself. How had he never noticed before? Because he hadn't been paying attention, that was why. Because Azula had mocked him endlessly for showing an interest in the healing arts. Because firebending ought to be fueled by anger, or strong emotion, at least, and this was something else. Just a quiet desire, so quiet he could ignore it, to set the warmth right. _Yes, that sounds right. Spend your life wrapping other people's boo-boos. That's about all you're good for. Shut up, Azula._

This was a bit more honesty with himself than Zuko could stand, brought on by sleep deprivation, no doubt, so he immediately decided that none of it mattered. All that mattered was leaving this place as soon as possible. He opened his eyes to check that nobody was watching him, then closed them again. It didn't take him long to readjust his heatsense until he felt the empty spot again. There were several sources of warmth in the room, but they all blended together seamlessly. His inner fire, though mostly bounded by his skin, actually continued to radiate outwards. Logically, there was a point at which it intercepted Katara's.

One of his fingers twitched, as if sending a flicker of fire in Katara's direction. He went with that, and tried it again, with intent this time. He could almost feel something happen. The third time, he could definitely feel a pulse of something leave him, followed by a moment of weakness. Once the weakness passed, he examined Katara with his heatsense again, and he could swear her fire had grown a bit. In his excitement, he pushed fire at her three times in rapid succession, and only a sudden dizziness made him stop. Several long minutes passed before he felt steady on his feet again, but still hollow. So he was not a fighter after all, and not even a good healer. Why couldn't he do anything right?

Katara's inner fire had grown, though some emptiness remained, and she was starting to stir a bit. It would have to be enough. He had no idea how to control the amount sent yet, and they didn't need for Katara to recover only for him to pass out.

Fortunately, nobody paid attention to him once the others noticed Katara stirring. The healer made Katara sit up while she was still mostly unconscious, and forced her to drink the herbal tea. By the time she finished the cup, Katara looked a lot more alert. Sokka and Aang crowded around her, talking over each other in their relief, until the healer clapped her hands to shut them up. "Back," she ordered, then without pause turned on Katara, "You have been extremely foolish." What followed was a complete riot act on the subject of proper rest, chi balancing, and knowing one's limits. Katara tried to interject at first, but even she at last just listened abashedly.

The healer finished, and poured Katara another cup of the tea. "Drink up."

"Thank you," Katara mumbled.

"And?"

"I won't be this stupid again."

The healer nodded with satisfaction. "Good. Now, you will eat a good meal, and you will do something that causes you to feel strong emotion, and you will sleep. Repeat as often as necessary, and you will restore your chi."

"Hey," Sokka had been listening attentively, "what does _emotion_ have to do with it?" He wiggled his fingers at the notion.

The healer gave him a stern glance. "Strong emotion helps chi flow through the body faster."

"Thank you," Katara said. "What do we owe you?"

The healer shook her head. "I think your payment has already been made – to the people you tried to help."

"Oh," Katara actually blushed. "I… if you're sure."

The healer didn't dignify that with an answer, but stood up. "I don't have a room big enough for all of you to sleep in. You might try Zei's house – she is sometimes up late, and glad of company."

Aang bowed to her. "Thank you for your help, Healer Cheng," he said with utter sincerity. "We'll just camp outside the village."

Cheng nodded. Sokka moved over to his sister and helped her stand up. Though she shot him an irritable look, she didn't protest. "You're really all right now?" he asked, holding her by both shoulders.

"Yes, I am."

Sokka threw his arms around her, and she returned the hug. "I was so worried!"

"You can stop worrying, Sokka," her voice was muffled by his shoulder, but sounded both embarrassed and pleased.

An odd sort of jealousy washed through Zuko at the scene. Not willing to examine it in any detail, he turned to the healer and bowed deeply. Minutes later, they finally left.

Momo leapt onto Katara the moment he saw her and clung to the front of her dress. "Hey, Momo," Katara murmured, stroking the lemur soothingly. "I guess you were worried, too."

Momo squeaked at her, and Appa chose that moment to make one of his rumbling sounds. It sounded like complete agreement from both of them.

It didn't take long for them to move to an empty clearing. They made Katara sit for once while they set up camp and built up the fire. Momo curled up on her shoulders like a scarf and refused to budge. At first, she seemed content to sit, but soon, she started frowning.

When Sokka started sorting through their food supplies, she tried to take over. "Sokka, no offense, but the last time you cooked, we all got the stomachache."

"I'll just make rice, then!" Sokka defended himself. "How hard can it be to make rice?"

Zuko, who had discovered the many ways it is possible to mess up rice during the early days of his banishment (before Uncle put his foot down and found them a new cook), tried to shake his head at Sokka in warning. Sokka ignored him, though. "And I'm not that bad! I seem to recall you liked what I did with the salad!"

"Right, because salad does not require _cooking_, just _chopping_," Katara retorted. "What's with you today? I haven't suddenly turned helpless, you know."

"You've been sick, and you need to rest," Sokka tried to tell her. It just made Katara angrier.

"I'm perfectly fine! I'm not some weak little girl!"

"You were unconscious!" Sokka yelled back. "That's not fine!"

"I was just _tired_!"

"I thought you were going to _die_!"

Silence fell.

"Sokka, that's ridiculous," Katara said softly after a while.

"Is it?" he snorted bitterly. "We didn't know what happened. One minute you were fine, the next, just out of it."

A complicated set of emotions passed over Katara's face. "I'm all right. Really. I can make dinner."

"I know you can. Thing is, maybe you don't need to."

"You really are a terrible cook, Sokka," she said without recrimination. "I'll do it."

Sokka's shoulders slumped. "All right. If you want to."

"I do." She suddenly grabbed Sokka into an impulsive hug. "Thanks for watching out for me while I was unconscious."

"Nooo problem," Sokka smiled.

"Hey," Aang teased, "don't I get a hug? I flew Appa as fast as I could to find you a healer."

"In that case," Katara smiled, "I think Appa deserves a hug more. Don't you, Appa?"

The bison rumbled as she gave him that hug. Aang's face fell comically, then immediately brightened when she hugged him right after.

She then came at Zuko, with the obvious intent of hugging him, too. He shook his head, though only half-heartedly.

"No?" she asked with some disappointment.

"Ah, he doesn't deserve it anyway," Sokka teased. "He was useless, completely useless. All he did was frighten us with talk of a concussion."

Zuko straightened indignantly, his hands clenched beside his hips for good measure. He scowled, too, but it was wasted.

"Very nice, Sokka," she chided, "picking on a guy who can't argue back in his defense." To him, she said, "Just a small hug, then?"

He shrugged. Her arms came around him for a second. It wasn't so bad. Strange and uncomfortable, but not bad.

Momo squeaked from his perch atop her shoulders and received a hug, too.

Soon, they were all sitting around the campfire. Katara munched slowly on a pear-apple, since it would take at least half an hour for the rice to cook. Despite any tiredness, they were all wide awake.

"I'm really glad that you're okay, Katara," said Aang. With an impish grin, he added, "And that you're the one cooking instead of Sokka!"

Right on time, the indignant cry came. "Hey!"

Katara laughed. "If I don't learn waterbending, I can always become a chef, right?"

"Why not both?" Aang wondered innocently.

"Yeah, why not," she agreed. "Katara, famous chef. Your soup waterbended into your bowl right in front of you."

"You'll need to keep a lot of napkins on hand for cleanup," Sokka said with a snort.

Katara glared at him. He raised his hands in front of his chest. "I'm just saying! You're the one who kept splashing me every time you played with water."

"Oh, I've gotten better than that," she assured him. "I can _deluge_ you with water now."

Sokka yelped, and then tried to pretend he had never let out any such sound. This attempt met with utter failure, of course.

Once the laughter and teasing died down a bit, Sokka's face got solemn again, and he stared into the fire. A few moments later, Katara put her hand on his shoulder.

"Honestly, Sokka, let it go already. What do I have to do to convince you that I'm fine?"

Sokka's mouth tightened. "I know you're fine. That's not it."

"Then what is it?" she coaxed.

"Just thinking," he said shortly.

"About?"

He looked like he wasn't going to answer for the longest time, but at last, sighed. "Just… how easy it is for things to be fine one moment and the next… not."

"You're thinking about Mom?" she whispered, pain evident in her voice.

He just nodded, and they sat like that a while.

Eventually, Aang dared to ask the very question eating at Zuko. "What happened to your mom?"

It was Sokka who answered. "She died in a Fire Nation raid." His voice was mostly even.

The answer hit Zuko like a blow, and he couldn't help but stare at the way Katara unconsciously clutched at her necklace. She'd said it was her mother's – Zuko had assumed it was a present, nothing more. But it was a keepsake from her dead mother. A keepsake he'd callously used against her. He swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. This apology couldn't come from the Blue Spirit.

"I saw the killer," he heard Katara say. "He was in our house, and Mom told me that it was okay, that she'd take care of it. Stupidly, I believed her. I left her there – with him."

"Katara, you were seven," Sokka reminded her. "There was nothing you could have done, and you only left to fetch Dad."

"I guess so," she answered, but she didn't sound like she believed those words.

Aang shifted closer to sit across from her and took her hands. "Weren't you the one telling me there was nothing I could have done to protect my people if I hadn't run away from the temple? And I was twelve, and the Avatar. Whoever he was, he was a killer. He might have killed you, too. Then I'd never have met you."

She gave a gasping laugh. "Thanks, Aang. No fair using my own words against me, though."

"Your fault for being so wise," Sokka said, as he wrapped an arm around her.

Zuko didn't know when exactly he decided to do it, but he put his left hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

She hiccupped a bit, and leaned into the touch.

"I miss Mom," she said eventually.

"Yeah, me too," Sokka agreed quietly.

Zuko nodded.

"What?" Sokka asked with surprise.

Zuko pulled the slate into his lap. For this, he didn't want to lie or twist the truth. "My mother disappeared when I was nine," he wrote. "She woke me up one night, sounding worried. She said that what she had done was to protect me, but she didn't say what it was. I almost thought it was a dream, but the next morning, she was gone. No one would talk about it, at all. I miss her."

"That's awful," Katara said with conviction. "Not to even know what happened… you must have imagined all sorts of things."

"I tried not to," he wrote, angry at the tears gathering in his eyes, "but yes. Exactly."

"I don't know who my mom was," Aang said quietly, "but I can understand what you're feeling."

"You know it more than anyone," Sokka said, slinging his other arm around Aang. "We each lost one person. You lost everyone."

Aang looked down. "Yeah, but that's not what I meant. I keep trying not to think about how they died."

Zuko, who despite not paying much attention in history class, could have answered that question, bit his tongue hard. Instead of saying anything, he shifted closer so that he could squeeze Aang's shoulder, too, completing the circle.

They stayed like that for a while, as if drawing strength from each other. When they finally broke apart (Katara needed to check on the rice), it wasn't that they were feeling much better, but they could talk about their losses without falling apart.

Sokka and Katara talked about playing in the snow with their mom, and how their dad barely spoke for three months after her death. Zuko wrote about playing in the sand with his mom, and how she loved to go exploring together with him. Aang talked about his old playmates at the temple, and gave a detailed description of the game of air ball, complete with a story of why it had been extremely important for his team to win against the other team two summers before he got trapped in the iceberg.

"I hate the quiet," he burst out at the end of the story. "At the temple, I mean. It should be filled with people, and bison, and lemurs. There should be kids playing air ball, and trying to sneak out of lessons. Monks chanting. Somebody running because they forgot something important. The air should be filled with gliders. It's not _right_."

Zuko suddenly realized that one part of Aang's description, at least, could be seen. The visit to the Northern Air Temple had been one of the Blue Spirit's first outings, once he saw that the temple was not as empty as expected. If he said so, though, wouldn't he be giving Aang false hope? It would be cruel, as cruel as if someone had told him they knew where his mother was when they didn't.

"I've been to the Northern Air Temple once," he wrote hesitantly. Already, Aang stared at him, expecting something important. Zuko swallowed. "I didn't see any Air Nomads, but people lived there, and it wasn't quiet. These people learned how to use gliders, somehow, and the air was not empty."

"But how?" Aang said with a pleading tone. "If they weren't Air Nomads, how could that be?"

"I don't know," he wrote. "They were from the Earth Kingdom, definitely. But they loved those gliders."

"I have to go there," said Aang. "I want to see for myself."

Zuko closed his eyes in pain, cursing himself for ever saying anything. "They're not your people. You're not going to find what you want."

"I understand that," Aang snapped. "But it's one of my temples. I need to know who lives there now."

The Northern Air Temple was even further away from North Port than Luanyang, and in the opposite direction, too. His plan… seemed oddly unreal now, but he forced himself to focus. He nodded slowly in response to Aang.

"We'll see it together," Katara said firmly. "Just think – two months ago we hadn't even finished exploring all the ice canyons, and now we're about to see an air temple which isn't even our first."

"Ye-eah, great," Sokka drawled, but he was smiling.

"Would you come with us?" Aang asked Zuko. "Since you've been there before and everything."

Zuko shook his head regretfully, surprised at how the regret seemed almost genuine. "I can't," he wrote. "I have to be elsewhere." Uncle expected him to return shortly. Also, the beginnings of a new plan, a really good plan, unfurled in his mind, but he would need Uncle's help for that one. He could take one more delay before going home, for a more certain end.

"Oh," was all Aang said. "When are you leaving?"

Zuko thought about it. "Tomorrow morning," he wrote. "I can make my way from here, and it would be too much out of your way, if you're going to the Northern Air Temple." In truth, he was afraid of spending too much more time with these people. He wanted the familiarity of his ship and his own face. He wanted to talk to Uncle – maybe not about everything that happened, but some of it at least. He needed time to think without the interference of the chaos that followed the Avatar around.

"Are you sure?" Aang questioned. "I meant what I said – I'd be happy to take you anywhere you need to go. Doesn't matter if it's a detour."

_He doesn't know what he's saying,_ Zuko reminded himself. _He doesn't know I need to go home, or that my home is in the Fire Nation._ "I'm sure," he wrote. "I'll be staying around the North Port region for the next little while. Perhaps we'll run into each other again."

There wasn't much more to be said after that. They ate and went to bed. In the morning, they said their goodbyes, and Zuko walked off alone.


	6. What Does That Make Me?

**A/N:** Many thanks to Gidon for pointing out that Zuko was not nearly as unquestioning in canon of the Fire Nation's goals as I have written him. I have made a small change to a sentence in Ch. 2 (the one about children being hurt), and I have rewritten Zuko's internal monologue in Ch. 4 on the nature of fire (in response to Aang refusing to learn firebending) to paint a hopefully more realistic reaction from Zuko. Thanks again, Gidon!

**Chapter 6**

Sokka loved the Northern Air Temple to bits – loved the mechanisms, loved the mix of old and new, loved thinking of what he could do if he had a temple of his own to refurbish. It was too bad that Aang just got more and more depressed at seeing it. Sokka tried, he really did, but there was only so far he could go with being supportive while secretly wanting nothing more than for his friend to enjoy it like he did. He was surprised but very pleased to find that Teo's dad, the Mechanist, loved showing people around and explaining his clever inventions in great detail. Sokka could listen for hours, and did.

Before long, the Mechanist was letting him in on more and more secrets, and then Sokka actually brought up an idea or two of his own, and suddenly they were just – great together. They sparked ideas off each other; they worked long into the night refining and testing; and it was such a rush. He'd never experienced anything like this before, and no adult had ever treated him like so much an equal. Let Aang do his air stunts – this was the real deal, as far as Sokka was concerned.

Of course, the universe just had to have its evil little laugh at him. The man he'd respected so much, the genius who worked simply because his head would otherwise explode with ideas – was secretly building weapons for the Fire Nation.

He did it for Teo, he'd explained. To protect him. Because he had nothing else to bargain with, other than his skills. Sokka kinda understood, but at the same time, he really didn't. Because if it was work he hated, then why was it so good? Why give the Fire Nation amazing weapons? Couldn't he have just – cranked out something mediocre? Nobody in the Fire Nation would have the brains to realize he could do more. But he didn't take that route.

Sokka could almost tell that the Mechanist had forgotten who he was working for. That he had taken the same joy in crafting those weapons as he had in building the steamworks for the temple. What kind of man did that make him? And why did Sokka still want to work with him, regardless of the answer to that question? What kind of man did that make Sokka?

He didn't know how to resolve this paradox. It was a huge relief when the Mechanist announced that now, he would work on resisting the Fire Nation. They were all good guys, working for the right side now, problem solved. Right?

The questions still remained at the back of his mind.

Sokka threw himself into the work of preparing for battle. He was good at this – planning, running around tying up loose ends, and making sure that everyone had what they needed. When he saw their war balloon fill up for the first time, it was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

Beautiful, with the Fire Nation symbol painted on its side. Sokka pretended it was another color, with another symbol entirely. Anyway, it helped during the battle, when the enemy didn't fire at them because they thought the balloon was part of their forces.

There was another difficult question that Sokka had buried for a few days, and he found himself studying the firebenders below them carefully. Watching to see how they moved; analyzing to see just how closely it resembled the way Blue moved. Because Blue couldn't be a firebender, and yet… what if?

After the battle, and after the celebration, he kept thinking of it. There were definite echoes, but nothing completely similar. Blue could just have picked it up from watching. Except he'd have had to watch a lot, and there was another thing. Sokka had yet to see any firebender put out fire. They just threw more and more of it around. What battlefield had Blue been on, where he could observe that? Observe well enough to remember it years later and teach it to Aang, no less? Something wasn't right, here.

Really, didn't it strain belief a bit, that one teenager had been able to rescue Aang out of a fortress full of elite soldiers? Even if Aang had to participate in order to carry it off successfully, that just made it two teenagers against a fortress. What if it had been a show, put on to gain Aang's trust?

No; even if that part had been a show, what about all the other times? It would have to be a huge charade indeed, for the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom to cooperate in the deception. If Blue had been working deliberately to ingratiate himself with Aang, he would have been much friendlier, asked more questions, and would have had a quick answer to anything they cared to ask, rather than pulling back as Blue did. It didn't fit, it absolutely didn't fit, but he couldn't just throw out the few details that pointed to something weird going on, either.

His personality, too – Sokka thought here of the two firebenders he halfway knew – was nothing like theirs. First of all, Blue was neither angry (well, except for that one time, and Sokka could understand that) nor a jerk, nor arrogant. Zuko, and Jeong Jeong to a lesser extent, both walked as if the earth ought to be grateful they stood on it – firm strides, planting each foot solidly. Blue walked quietly and quickly, kept himself poised to change direction at any moment, and was self-effacing. Sokka couldn't imagine the spoiled prince ever allowing one little finger anywhere near the dirty dishes, while Blue had scrubbed them without being asked. Jeong Jeong surrounded himself with supporters who worshipped him; Blue was alone. Zuko tried to capture Aang and Jeong Jeong had been harsh with him; Blue reasoned with Aang and knelt in front of him. These and many other contrasts convinced Sokka that if Blue were a firebender, he was completely different from the rest of them. And he was probably not a firebender at all. About all that Blue and Zuko had in common were a similar height and build.

Sokka paused.

Blue couldn't have too many injuries hiding under his clothes, or he'd never be able to move so smoothly. So why did he take such care not to show any bit of skin?

He shook his head and laughed a bit at himself. This was getting into the realm of paranoia. Blue might, just might, be a firebender on the run, like Jeong Jeong and his band, but there was no way that it was Zuko under the mask. He'd have given himself away in the first few seconds, and he'd have been using every opportunity to get Aang away from the rest of the group. Sokka prided himself on being a good warrior. Aang and Katara could laugh about his instincts all they liked, but he'd known that Jet was up to no good, and Zuko was far worse than Jet. All right, so Sokka hadn't caught on about the Mechanist, but the Mechanist was a good guy, even if he was slightly confused at first. So even if his instincts needed a little fine-tuning, Sokka would've been able to detect an enemy like Zuko.

Nothing to worry about, right? Right. They had better things to do, anyway, like finally getting Aang to the North Pole.

* * *

><p>It took Zuko nearly five days to make it back to the ship, twice as long as it should have. At first, it had been tiredness and his bruised ribs slowing him down. Once he got closer to the settled areas around North Port, it was the need to hide. Then, just when he'd thought he was nearly there, there had been the whole unpleasant mess with the smugglers, forcing him to backtrack and go around. He was hungry, footsore, and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for a day.<p>

He took off his mask and pulled down the hood, then meticulously bound his hair back into its usual proud style. The mask went into the bottom of his bag, a cloak he'd obtained from one of the smugglers wrapped around him to conceal the black clothes, and he was Prince Zuko once again, back from a mission. Crewman Yei, on guard at the gangplank, saluted him respectfully as he came aboard.

He returned a brief nod to the crewman, then barely had time to brace himself. Uncle, who had been playing some solitaire game on the foredeck and drinking tea, had spotted him. In two seconds, he was enveloped in a fierce hug, which he returned awkwardly. Uncle was one of the few people he didn't mind doing that, but he still never quite knew what to do with himself when it happened.

Uncle pulled back only in order to get a good look at his face. "Is everything all right?" he asked. "You were late."

"Everything is fine, Uncle," a small smile formed on his lips almost against his will. "I ran into a few delays, that's all. I have a lot to tell you, but later, all right?"

"You look tired," Uncle nodded, as if that explained everything, and to him, it probably did. "Get some rest. Are you hungry? Do you want tea?"

"Just give me one of those sticky buns you have there, and I'll eat later, I promise," he rolled his eyes.

Uncle turned to fetch the bun immediately. "When do you want us to leave?" he said over his shoulder. "I gave the men leave to go ashore; do I need to cancel it?"

Zuko was tempted, but shook his head. For once, they had time, and he was too tired to think well. "No… no, we need to plan first. Let them have their shore leave for now."

Uncle smiled at him warmly. "Then that's what we shall do."

Zuko nodded, bit into the sticky dessert, and went to his cabin.

Curiosity tore at Iroh like a tigerdillo at its prey, but he forced himself to wait. If even Zuko, normally so driven to keep going forward, didn't think there was any need for hurry, then there wasn't. Still, he couldn't wait to find out what happened.

In the last three years, there were few occasions on which he'd seen Zuko's face relax even a little. Yet when he'd come back from wherever it was he'd been, that perpetual tightness around his eyes had lessened. Iroh honestly couldn't figure out why. Even if Zuko had actually succeeded at capturing the Avatar, which he obviously hadn't, Iroh wouldn't expect him to relax, not after that first attempt failed. At the very least, he'd have been pacing and out of his mind with worry over how he would be received by his father. Yet Zuko had come back empty-handed – and nearly peaceful.

Iroh wasn't above being sneaky when it suited him. As he opened the door to his nephew's room quietly, he was fully prepared to explain it as "checking on whether you wanted dinner." Zuko was fast asleep on his stomach, though, and didn't stir at his uncle's quiet steps.

Iroh looked around. There was a washbasin with a rag still soaking in it – a quick cleanup before bed. A pile of clothes on the floor – Iroh's eyes narrowed thoughtfully at the fact that the cloak covered the seemingly haphazard pile completely. He lifted it, but it was just the black clothes underneath, travel-stained but otherwise fine. They didn't tell him anything other than what he already knew; Zuko had been sneaking around again. Though the faint traces of white dust on the gloves were interesting, they were probably from climbing a limestone bluff somewhere.

Iroh could never completely approve of Zuko's frequent solitary expeditions, but he'd quickly learned that trying to forbid them made things worse even on the occasions that Zuko actually obeyed him. Iroh still counted it an unexpected success that he'd been able to break Zuko of the habit of sneaking off without permission. It was a big relief, that he could count on being told before Zuko left, and on knowing the general area in which he might need to search should something go wrong.

Contrary to Iroh's fears, on his own, Zuko was actually more careful than on the ship. In the early days, Iroh had tried to follow Zuko several times. His nephew proved to be both too fast and too good at hiding, so Iroh never did manage to be Zuko's guardian shadow as he'd hoped to be. However, he felt that if even he, with all his advantages at finding Zuko, couldn't do it, then others wouldn't stand much chance. If by being alone, Zuko could drop the constant need to "prove himself" by taking foolish risks, then he had all of Iroh's blessings to keep doing that. In time, he'd learn to act in the same more measured way around other people.

Zuko shifted a little in his sleep, but didn't wake up. Iroh went to tug the blanket more firmly around the boy, getting a look at the bruise on Zuko's back in the process. It was large, but turning green and yellow already – not recent. There were a few smaller and newer ones, too. Zuko's breathing was deep and easy, so they must not hurt much anymore. Iroh's hand rested for a moment on Zuko's shoulder. He'd have to wait after all, but he felt better for having reassured himself that Zuko was really as okay as he'd claimed.

He looked in on Zuko a few more times as the hours passed, but Zuko was still sleeping each time. Finally, the next morning, he opened the door to see Zuko awake, meditating at his table.

"I didn't ask to be interrupted," Zuko complained.

"The cook tells me you haven't eaten since you came aboard – I was just worried."

Zuko sighed. "Give me twenty more minutes, and… bring some breakfast here."

Iroh nodded with a smile. Finally.

Exactly twenty minutes later, he and the cook carried in two trays. Zuko pulled the chest away from the wall as a makeshift table, then shooed the cook out and locked the door. Iroh's attention sharpened.

His nephew ate slowly, and seemed reluctant to start talking. Iroh let him take his time.

At last, Zuko finished his meal, but continued to look down at the empty plates.

"What is on your mind, Prince Zuko?" Iroh prompted gently.

"Many things," he sighed, his eyes uncharacteristically downcast. Another brief silence followed, but then he said, "I've had the opportunity to observe the Avatar closely, a few days ago."

Iroh's eyebrows rose. "What did you observe that brings you such discomfort?"

"I'm not discomfited!" Zuko flared. "Just confused," he added more softly.

Iroh waited.

"He's only twelve, did you know, Uncle?" said Zuko, glancing at him.

"I noticed," Iroh said dryly.

"I… saw it without noticing, I suppose. I kept thinking of him as this master of the four elements, hiding vast knowledge beneath the childish exterior. But he _doesn't_ know all the elements – he's barely started in on waterbending – and he really is a child. Naïve, wanting to make friends wherever he goes – I don't think he even wants to fight. I saw him fighting. He's afraid to hurt his enemies." Zuko shook his head. "You and I, Uncle, we've been trained for war – we know that you don't hesitate. I don't think he knows that."

Iroh hid his amusement at Zuko placing himself in the same category as a battle-hardened warrior, because there was some truth to his nephew's words. However little actual fighting he'd participated in, Zuko had been raised with the mindset of a warrior. If he said the Avatar didn't have it, then the Avatar didn't.

"That is very interesting," he acknowledged. "What do you make of it?"

Zuko shifted. "I need your advice, Uncle," he managed. Iroh nodded, afraid of interrupting whatever was going on within Zuko. "This, this goes no further," he waved a hand around the room. "It borders on treason." He swallowed, looking at Iroh, waiting for the judgment.

"It goes no further," Iroh promised softly. Was this it? Was Zuko finally ready to abandon his quest after three years?

Zuko exhaled in relief. "I think," he began, "that when my father sent me to find the Avatar, he must have had the same image in his mind as I did. Over a hundred, master of all four elements, and implacable enemy of the Fire Nation. That person needed to be stopped. Yet this Avatar is not that person. I think… I think there could be another way."

Iroh listened attentively.

"I know my great-grandfather had to face the previous Avatar in battle, because that Avatar betrayed our people and made of himself such a dangerous enemy. Ever since, we have been afraid of the next Avatar pursuing that vendetta. Yet this one is different. He has not that kind of implacableness. He's young; he knows nothing about our people. Despite the way he has absorbed our enemies' propaganda, I've heard no plans of attack from him. Admittedly, he could have just not spoken of them at that particular time, and yet… Others have poured bad information into his ears, and he has not heard our side, so he doesn't understand. He could learn, and I think he'd be far more willing to do so than Avatar Roku. I was sent to neutralize the threat, and capturing the Avatar is not the only way. I'm still the crown prince, even exiled. Uncle, do you think that if I made a treaty with the Avatar on my father's behalf, that would be acceptable? Or is it too much like treason?"

Iroh exhaled and gave this some thought. While less of a break than he'd hoped, it was actually quite a reasonable course of action, especially if Zuko's impressions of the Avatar were correct. For Zuko, for their nation, this could be an unexpected way forward. This war had killed all the nations, and less fighting and capturing was needed, not more. The question, of course, was whether the Firelord would see it that way.

Zuko waited quietly, only his clenched fingers giving away his tension.

"I believe it is worth trying," he said at last. Zuko smiled cautiously. "Yet there are many reasons to be careful." Zuko's face grew more solemn, and he nodded. "You are right that it is not the task you were sent to fulfill. Even if you have the treaty in your hand, how will you deliver it to your father?"

"I could ask you to go," Zuko answered, trying to mute the hope in his voice to something more neutral. "Once my father sees the benefits of it for the Fire Nation, he will surely agree to it."

Zuko did not say "and allow me to come home," but Iroh could hear it anyway. It was really that part which bothered him. Yes, a treaty might work – another way to contain the Avatar's power would be something even Ozai would consider valuable. If the Avatar were inexperienced in politics, it could be a very valuable treaty indeed. However, Iroh could not forget the look in Ozai's eyes, that day in the arena, flaring more fiercely every time Zuko defied his commands. Iroh strongly suspected that the Avatar didn't seem nearly as much of a threat to Ozai as an independent-minded heir. One who, however much he loved his father, would never be entirely his father's creature. Attempting to change the terms of his own banishment would surely be seen as another form of defiance.

"_I am your loyal son,"_ Zuko had cried that day. He wouldn't understand how those words had tortured Iroh. They were the words that Lu Ten had used to sign his last note. Up until Zuko's outcry, Iroh had treasured them, copying them onto the picture of his son's face with reverent hands. On that day, the notion of filial loyalty turned to ashes in Iroh's mouth. If Zuko could be loyal, and remain loyal, to a man who did not deserve it, then how could Iroh be sure that Lu Ten's loyalty had been any less blind? How could he be sure he'd been a good father?

Iroh had never found the answer to that question, and Zuko was still waiting for his answer. "I would be your ambassador gladly," he assured his nephew, and wondered if Zuko could understand the subtle message about Iroh's loyalties. For a moment, he even wondered whether it was safe to declare them in even this oblique manner. This war had killed families in more than one way. "Yet Ozai is a proud man. He would wish a great many concessions from the Avatar, in order to feel secure in leaving him his freedom. I am not so sure that the Avatar would willingly agree to such terms."

"I thought of that," Zuko said. "It is a risk. I think, however, that if I were to talk privately with the Avatar – sound him out – explain to him the things he doesn't understand about our country – then it becomes a possibility."

Iroh stroked his beard. Who exactly would learn from whom, during such a conversation? It could be very interesting, and enlightening to Zuko in more than one way. "You do realize that, should you not succeed, such a private talk could itself be seen as treason? It would have to be very private indeed."

"If it doesn't succeed, I can still capture him," Zuko answered mulishly.

"There are too many unknowns," Iroh mused. "If you can sound him out – and how can you be sure he will trust you enough to talk? – that would tell us much."

"I know where he is going, so it should be easier now to find him than before. Maybe he wouldn't trust me at first, but I think he wouldn't refuse to talk entirely. Then I could work on gaining his trust, or if not, there's another thing I could use to compel his attention."

"Which is?"

Zuko shook his head. "Last resort. No, the first step is merely arranging a meeting. Now, he was headed for the Northern Air Temple, and may still be there, or he may have left. My delay did not work in our favor here. After that, he ought to have headed for the Northern Water Tribe – he seeks the masters of waterbending there, so he will probably stay a few weeks at least. That's our best opportunity to intercept him," Iroh opened his mouth, but Zuko raised one hand, "Yes, I do understand how dangerous it is, but I think I could sneak inside if I went alone. Didn't you manage it?"

Iroh answered reluctantly, "I did. The circumstances, however, were rather different. I had… options open to me which you do not." Namely, that as a member of the White Lotus Society, he could count on the other members of the Society to ignore his Fire Nation background and help him get in. Zuko didn't have the same luxury, and for all that Iroh loved his nephew, he knew very well that Zuko was not ready to learn of the Society's existence. Would it be enough to vouch for his nephew in a letter? "There are things I could try, but I am not at all certain they will help you," he continued. "If we find that the path into the Northern Water Tribe is closed to you, what will you do?"

"The Avatar will head to Omashu afterwards," Zuko declared confidently. "We could intercept him on the way, since we know the terrain better than he does."

"You have indeed discovered a great deal of information," commented Iroh, somewhat startled. "Very well. As I thought from the first, it is worth attempting."

Zuko bowed over his hands with a smile of relief. "Thank you, Uncle." He hesitated a moment, then asked, "You truly don't think this is too close to treason?"

Iroh reached over to put a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "No, I think you are thinking like a prince." Zuko's face lit up, and Iroh felt a pang of grief for the little boy who had just wanted to be a good prince, and ended up burned and banished. "I am honored that you trusted me with your concerns."

Zuko actually ducked his head a little. "I knew you would be able to guide me away from error," he said quietly. _I trust you,_ he meant. Iroh let that fill his heart.

"What are your orders to the men?" he asked.

Zuko thought a moment. "Have them come back aboard by two this afternoon. We'll set sail at full speed for the Northern Air Temple, and be there in a little over a day. If the Avatar is not there, we will sail for the Water Tribe city."

"I propose a minor correction," Iroh raised a finger. "If we do not find the Avatar at the Temple, we should come back here. I will need to send some letters in order to assist you in your plan of entering the city, and it will be both faster and safer to base ourselves here to receive any replies."

Zuko looked up curiously at the mention of letters, and nodded by the end. "If you think it best."

"I do." Iroh rather hoped they wouldn't find the Avatar too quickly. A peaceful couple of weeks would not come amiss, and maybe Zuko's heart would start healing at taking this new direction. Maybe he could even convince his nephew to join them for the next music night. With his talent for the tsungi horn, it was a shame he didn't use it more often.

Zuko stood up. "I'm going to go into town for a couple of hours. I'll be back by noon."

"Be careful," Iroh warned. It was a free port, meaning that people of all nations could be found there, but rough, like any port so loosely regulated.

"I will," Zuko replied with a rather dramatic longsuffering sigh. Iroh frowned. Zuko took too many risks, and he expected his uncle not to worry? It would never happen. Since, however, at sixteen his nephew was technically (very technically) an adult, there wasn't much Iroh could do about it.

"When you come back, we should start working on what you want the terms of the treaty to be. Even if it is more than can be obtained, you need to have a firm understanding in advance of what you want, and what can and cannot be conceded."

"I understand, and I will do that," Zuko promised. "I'll see you then, Uncle."

* * *

><p>Although he wore his Fire Nation clothes when he walked into North Port proper, it was another set of colors Zuko had on his mind. North Port, after all, happened to be the "birthplace" of the Blue Spirit for him. Zuko didn't put much stock in spirits. He knew they existed, but he'd never seen them interfere with the living world. He also couldn't maintain much respect for them after he'd found out that they hadn't let Uncle – Uncle, who had earned it ten times over – to see his own son when he'd finally won through to the Spirit World. Zuko felt it was particularly nonsensical and cruel of them, and whenever it was he died and saw the Spirit World for himself, he intended to give those spirits a piece of his mind.<p>

Nonetheless, he had an idea that he needed to at least acknowledge something to one particular spirit. He had no offering, and no incense, but he went to the place he'd first seen the mask. There had been no talking in the plays, and legends weren't very detailed, so Zuko didn't quite know who the Blue Spirit was. What he did know was that of all the spirits, the Blue Spirit was particularly inscrutable. He would help or not, and it was hard to tell how he made that determination. He required respect, like all spirits, but his definition of respect didn't seem to be quite the usual type.

Perhaps that was what had drawn Zuko to the mask, all these years ago – it had no pat answers, just at the time when he had known that all pat answers were a lie. He'd put it on, and he was still Prince Zuko, but more than that, too, and once he'd tasted the possibility, he was more than that when not wearing the mask as well. Sometimes, he thought he felt some – presence – when wearing the mask, though it had probably just been his imagination. Imagination or not, it had helped him bear himself, and using it had led him to good results. So, just in case, Zuko thought he ought to at least go and acknowledge what had happened.

He found the old dilapidated arena easily. There was no play being put on now, as it was too early during a workday. Still, he remembered what it looked like, filled with people, with wagons selling all sorts of things standing around the arena.

Uncle practically had to force him off the ship at the time, even after promising to teach him a new firebending move the next morning if he spent the day "having fun" in town. It had been one of their few layovers between the Western Air Temple and the Northern. Zuko hadn't wanted to stop at all. Even though he knew how unlikely it was to find anything in any of the temples, he couldn't stop hoping. The first failure had been bitter, despite being expected. Mai's message had been the only thing which brought him any peace, then. Then the bandages came off, and North Port had been their first stop after that.

Even the memory made him cringe. He'd learned to walk tall, ignore any double takes at the sight of his face, and often, he could even forget that anyone was looking, when he was lost in his own thoughts. That was now, however. Then, every look at him felt like a blow, and he couldn't stop watching for those looks. Fun. What kind of fun did Uncle think he could have, like this? Only pride drove him onward, and it had been about to break.

The play at the arena had stirred memories of attending the theatre with his mom, and he'd slipped into the crowd, finding a seat for himself. Mostly, people didn't look at him, but at the stage. He didn't even remember what the play had been that day, only that the actors had overexaggerated every line, but by the end of it, he'd been able to relax a little. The end of the play had been the end of his reprieve from reality.

Still, he'd lingered in the emptying arena, unwilling to go just then, and watched the vendors start to pack away their wagons. He'd glanced idly at the riot-of-color wagon selling opera masks. The masks hung so close together that it was difficult to distinguish any individual one. Then a blue-and-white mask had seemed to almost leap out at him, and he couldn't look away. The painted features grinned at him. He couldn't decide whether the expression was a threatening or an inviting one, but something about it invited him to look again.

He still hadn't figured out what it was that drew him when he'd become aware of the vendor closing up shop. On impulse, he'd wandered over and bought it. He held it in his hands as night started to fall, and still couldn't figure it out, nor did he quite understand why it seemed so important to figure it out. It was just a mask. This vendor alone had ten more copies of it, and thousands must exist throughout the world. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that it was looking at him. It offered no answers, and he was glad, because he didn't want any. What it offered was possibilities.

He'd liked the wordless operas as a child. It had been fun trying to understand what was happening just from the actors' gestures. If he put it on – well, he'd be a weirdo wandering around town in a mask when it wasn't festival-time. They'd stare at him just as much as they stared at the scar, and yet, it would feel different. They wouldn't be looking at Prince Zuko.

He'd sighed as he pushed those thoughts aside. As Prince Zuko, he had duties, and he couldn't just shirk them. Nor could he be the kind of coward who hid his shame with a mask. It had been a lesson from his father, and he was determined to learn whatever it was he needed to learn.

Yet what if Uncle was right? What if he didn't need to devote every minute of every day to his quest? What if it wasn't so bad to take a little break, just every once in a while? In the darkness of the night, when no one could see his face anyway, it would make no difference if he covered his scar with a mask.

The prince of the Fire Nation inhabited a particular world. What would he see if he stepped outside that world, just for a bit?

A wild desire to find out lit inside him.

That very night, he'd found an unlit corner in which he took off his red-and-gold outer robes. Beneath, he wore a dark tunic and pants, which were non-descript enough. He'd loosened his hair and tied on the mask. Leaving the robes as hidden as he could, he crept through the shadows. The mask wasn't the best choice for hiding in the darkness, but he told himself that he'd just have to improve his sneaking skills enough to carry it off. It had been a rather sorry outing. He had avoided people, and found out nothing except that he really needed to work on moving silently, and had felt awkward and clumsy, afraid every moment that someone would stop him and ask what he was doing. Nobody did, however, and in two hours, he'd made his way back. He carried the mask aboard his ship hidden under his clothes. In the three days they continued to stay at North Port, he'd snuck out every night, getting more and more confident each time. He'd added the swords that had been hanging on the wall of his cabin for years, forgotten by some previous owner, to his ensemble, and felt that, even though he was a failure, he could perhaps become more than that.

Then came the Northern Air Temple, where he'd actually put his new disguise to good use. Uncle had forbidden him to go alone to investigate, so naturally, that's what he did. When he'd returned to the ship without getting caught, he felt absolutely proud of himself, even throughout Uncle's lecturing, for the first time since the Agni Kai. He'd continued to work on his sneaking skills and his swordsmanship, and he'd gotten good at those, if he did say so himself. He heard the things that people said privately, things they would never say to the prince. He learned the things a prince might never learn. Even alone, he was capable of defending himself.

Some days, when even he couldn't quite keep up hoping that he'd find and capture the Avatar and get to go home, he consoled himself by playing with the idea of becoming a wandering swordsman, the Blue Spirit in truth. He'd protect people or not at his whim, just like the Spirit did, and no one would ever quite know what to make of him. No demands, no obligations… He knew he'd never do it, but the fantasy made him feel less trapped. Then he'd compare the fantasy and the reality and feel better about who he was and the rightful quest he pursued.

Now, nearly three years later, he sat in the sun on the bench of the arena, and let these thoughts go up into the air.

* * *

><p>Iroh could not have been more pleased at the recent turn of events. They had barely left port before a message arrived to all the Fire Nation vessels in the vicinity. It told of the fight at the Air Temple, and hinted at a "massive advantage" that their nation had gained. The message forbade anyone from interfering further with the affairs near the temple, which ordinarily would have driven Zuko into a rage. This time, however, he barely seemed upset at all. While still curious about what the "advantage" was, he ordered the ship to turn back to North Port, since he believed that the Avatar must have left after the battle, and he wished for Iroh to get started on the letters. They continued to work on potential terms of the treaty, and Zuko proved to have a good head on his shoulders for statecraft, despite occasionally continuing to veer into impulsive and wrongheaded thinking.<p>

The calm was an enormous change in his nephew. More than that, he acted just a touch friendlier than usual with everyone aboard, especially Iroh. They had talked more of the insights that Zuko had gained into the Avatar's group, and Iroh marked the way that Zuko's respect for them had increased, but Iroh still couldn't understand exactly what happened. Whatever it was, he was happy to see it, and could only hope it continued.

A small hint appeared a couple days later, when Iroh came out on the deck earlier than usual in the morning and saw Zuko practicing a very unusual kind of move. In fact, Iroh had never taught him that, nor could any other teacher have. The style of it was all wrong for firebending, and Zuko struggled to produce any flame with it, but Iroh recognized it. A waterbending move.

His mouth hung open. In a few years from now, when Zuko had calmed and matured, he might have started hinting to his nephew about how wisdom should be sought from all nations. A few years after that, he might have revealed the significance of the White Lotus tile. If Zuko were ready to hear it, of course (if he didn't lose his way, or die on this quest). He had never expected Zuko to try to learn anything from a waterbender on his own.

This required some explanation. "Prince Zuko," he approached. "What are you trying to do?"

Zuko seemed slightly embarrassed – not unexpected, that – but answered easily. "The waterbender who travels with the Avatar fights this way. I thought that if I understood more about her style of fighting, it would be easier for me to counter water attacks."

"Good thinking," Iroh nodded, "but I thought you weren't going to fight anyone?"

"I thought I should be prepared, on a journey into a city full of waterbenders."

"Be careful. If once you start fighting them, all their inclination to allow you to speak to the Avatar will vanish. Remember, a waterbender always redirects the opponent's attack into both defense and counteroffense. Provoking them is the most dangerous thing you could do."

"I don't intend to start," Zuko responded irritably. "It's just so alien! I can't understand how they make it work, and I want to."

"Do you?" he asked softly. "Very interesting. Water is the opposite of fire, so a study of it will be extremely challenging, but perhaps, also equally rewarding."

"You've spent a little time with them – do you understand any of it?" he asked.

Iroh hesitated. This was a good beginning, but Zuko still seemed far from true wisdom. "Some," he answered. "If you wish, you may continue your experiments, and we will discuss your results later. However, for now, I would prefer if you returned to our usual lessons."

Reluctantly, Zuko nodded. "Very well."

Though he didn't seem entirely happy, it proved to be the right course. After all, that evening, Zuko finally opened up about the "healing experience" he'd had on his journey. He wouldn't give many details as to who or why, but he shared his thoughts on how he might have been responsible in the ice incident after all, and described the way that he'd been able to use his heat-sense to obtain a new insight into a person's condition.

Iroh stroked his beard thoughtfully. "This happened only when you allowed yourself to observe the whole instead of the particular, it seems. You say it felt like one of the people was incomplete?"

"I don't know how to describe it, Uncle. Something like that."

"Prince Zuko," Iroh began, "this is a most important discovery, and yet I'm not sure that I've ever heard any of our healers describe their work like that. I'm not trained in their techniques, of course… We'll need to obtain some scrolls to see if you can train this further."

"The person was sick, and got a bit better when I tried this. What else would you call it but healing?" Zuko's tone was an odd mixture of frustration and hope.

"Restoring balance," Iroh answered calmly.

Zuko stared, then produced the expected show of temper. "How can you say that? It's bad enough that this proves I'll never be a good fighter, and now you're making me sound like the Avatar!"

"Prince Zuko," Iroh held up a hand, "I know that you have always been taught that the healing and fighting arts are so diametrically opposed that you cannot have talent in one without losing talent in the other. I have been taught the same thing. However, one mark of a master is the ability to reconcile wildly different aspects of one's talent into a greater whole."

Zuko snorted. "You don't need to flatter me, Uncle. I know I'm not that good."

"You aren't yet," Iroh corrected. "I have always seen a great deal of raw power in you. Your problem is that you do not control this power, and waste it in many ways. I keep telling you, you need to master the basics. Only then will you have enough control to achieve the more complex forms."

Zuko, as usual, would not believe this however much he longed to. "I'm _working_ on it, Uncle. Just because I'm not good enough at even the basics, yet, doesn't mean I'm not trying."

"I know how hard you work," Iroh said placatingly. At the frown on his nephew's face, he tried to change the subject – they'd been through this conversation before, and it had yet to end well. "Now is not the time for training, however. It's almost time for music night to begin, in fact. Won't you join us?"

Zuko refused, and continued to do so despite coaxing. Finally, Iroh gave up. "Very well. You can change your mind at any time," he said with a smile.

An hour later, just as they had really gotten into the spirit of music, Zhao showed up (from the Fire Nation base a little up the coast, no doubt) to steal the crew and ruin everything. Iroh could not bring himself to hate anyone, but he had developed a bitter distaste for this man. An Admiral of the Fire Nation who instead of earning true glory, tried to raise himself up by tormenting a young boy – this was the definition of failure, to Iroh's mind. Yet men like Zhao considered themselves glorious, while Zuko would not stop thinking of himself as a failure. It was bitter indeed.


	7. Infiltrators of the Invasion

**A/N:** Thanks to Krystal and Kimberly T. for help with Katara's age at the time of her mother's death.

**Chapter 7**

Zuko had kept blacking out for a while after he hit the water, but he managed to stay floating on his back, and in his more lucid moments, he tried to swim for shore. That was how Uncle found him and pulled him to safety. His skin prickled and burned (according to Uncle, the result of his fire shield turning into steam on contact with the water), and his bones still seemed to hum from the impact, but he hadn't broken anything. That could have been the benefit of the cushion of steam, too. So, all in all, he got off very lightly. The ship had exploded so _efficiently_.

Uncle had to leave for a while – to "play the devastated uncle," as he put it, so that no one would find out that Zuko was still alive. Zuko had the feeling that Uncle wouldn't need to do much acting. He felt guilty for having put that look on Uncle's face, and although he would never admit it, he didn't really want to be alone right now.

_Someone tried to kill me,_ he thought. Zhao, almost certainly Zhao. He'd almost succeeded, too. If Zuko hadn't heard that suspicious sound – if he hadn't wandered out to the tower at just the right time – if he'd been one second slower with the fire shield – he didn't like to think of it. He'd been in many difficult situations in the past few years. He'd known of the risks of dying, and faced them. What he hadn't expected was for death to come out of nowhere like this. How could it happen? He wasn't a threat to Zhao, however much he'd have liked to be. He wasn't so dangerous that he needed to be eliminated, and he was, after all, the crown prince. Didn't Zhao remember that? Didn't he pause just for a moment to think of the Firelord's wrath at the death of his son? Was Zuko so much a laughingstock to his own people that no one would remember at least that?

Eventually, these painful thoughts settled into a grim determination. He wouldn't let this stop him. Zhao wouldn't get his victory so easily. By the time his uncle came back, Zuko had the beginnings of a plan.

"Prince Zuko, we already have a plan. We should stick to it," Uncle argued. "You're half-cooked. Stay still." He had obtained a small jar of burn salve from somewhere – and then _apologized_ for not being able to obtain more supplies without making anyone suspicious. Zuko couldn't talk much while the salve was applied to his back, as his teeth kept clenching to hold back sound. He did protest, however, that there were some parts he could treat himself, thank you very much. At last, however, it was done.

"We had a plan, but we don't have time," Zuko said tightly. "The fleet will arrive at the North Pole in days. I must be there to have any hope of intercepting Zhao."

"It is dangerous."

"You always say that!" he yelled. "Look where staying safe got me! I almost died; that's dangerous enough!" Zuko bit his tongue as he saw the look which crossed his uncle's face, and continued more softly. "It's my only chance. Please, Uncle. I need to go, and I need you to tell me what you know of the Water Tribe city if I'm to have any chance of success."

Uncle was silent a long time, and Zuko wondered if he could muster up any other arguments. In the end, he didn't need to. "Very well. I must go see Zhao today; he will expect me to demand an investigation into your death. I will offer him my services during the attack on the Water Tribe, and we will go to the North Pole together."

"Uncle, you don't have to go. I can –"

"No arguments. We go together or not at all."

"What if Zhao tries to kill you, too?" Zuko nearly whispered.

"He will not dare."

"You're being stupid! How do you know?!" Zuko blazed.

Uncle seemed to choose his words carefully. "It's the kind of man he is. He is afraid of me, yes, and ordinarily, that might drive him to murder. However, the blemished parts of his spirit will find much satisfaction in thinking that I am under his command. He will not want to abandon that satisfaction easily, and I will not give him cause."

Zuko's fists clenched. "I don't want you to put yourself into such a situation."

"I know, but it is my choice to make, not yours."

"It's not right!"

"No, it is. How do you think I could retain any honor, if my nephew went alone into danger and I abandoned him to it?"

Zuko tried to protest some more, but he could see that Uncle meant what he said about honor, and he couldn't very well argue against that. They talked out some of the details and Uncle drew a map in the dirt for him. Then they slept for a few hours, Uncle applied the last of the ointment to the worst of the blisters, and they split up to put the plan in action.

Zuko didn't want to leave the least sign of his infiltration of Zhao's ship, so he couldn't hit a guard over the head and steal his armor. First, he found a muddy patch of ground to roll in and coated himself thoroughly. Next, he ripped off the bottom of his robe and constructed a head-covering from it, making certain that it was also thoroughly muddy and hung over his face in such a way as to conceal his scar. Once he was fairly sure that no one would recognize him or his clothes, he snuck into the back alleys of the port town. He'd been in enough ports to know where to go. Soon, he found his target – the yard outside a tavern, where men who had drank till they passed out the night before were just now waking up. They were obviously too groggy to remember much of anything, but he still made sure to keep his voice low and slurred. "My head… ohh… share a drink, mon?"

The man to whom he'd addressed this turned to squint at him and the bruises and scratches on the unhidden part of his face. "Y'lose a fight?"

"Yeah," he groaned.

"Yao Hu, yeah? Made that mistake m'self once. Wiry bastard."

"Don' remin' me. Drink?"

"Here," the man offered generously. Zuko tipped the bottle so that most of it splashed over him as he pretended to swallow.

"You're the best!" he announced, the way he'd seen drunks do.

"Hey, whass about leaving some for me?" his newfound "friend" protested.

"Sorry… I'll owe you one. Don't have money now."

"Good pay on th' docks," the man advised.

"Headed that way later," he muttered.

"Yeah, me too," the man answered without enthusiasm, then swallowed the last bits of alcohol left in the bottle and leaned back. As soon as he judged it safe, Zuko got up and staggered away like any other drunk dockworker. First, however, he needed some new clothes – they wouldn't let him through in such a dirty state, and the harbormaster might be one of the attentive ones. Even if he added some rips, this cloth was too good for a dockworker.

No one would pay attention to a drunk and dirty bum who wandered into a secondhand shop, however. Less than fifteen minutes later, Zuko changed into his new worn-out outfit, hid his old clothes in the bushes, and wrapped a few more rags over his eye and jaw. A conical straw hat completed the look and hid the bits of hair that the bandages didn't cover.

The harbormaster barely looked up at the approach of one more man seeking work while still smelling of a night out. His glance did slide over the black eye and the bandages, though. "You able to work?" he questioned.

"Yeah," Zuko replied, mumbling as if moving his jaw hurt. "Just a stupid fight."

"Oh?"

"Bastard called himself Yao Hu. I'll wipe that grin off his face next time."

"Haven't had enough yet?" the harbormaster smirked. As Zuko had bargained, Yao Hu was well known around these parts. "Well, as long as you can carry crates, it's your funeral. Go see the super over there for an assignment."

Zuko went and hauled crates for half an hour to establish an alibi. On his last trip, he followed the rest of the workers into the hold, then pretended to drop the crate onto his foot. Swearing colorfully, he hopped around for a few seconds before plopping onto one of the crates and cradling his foot in his hands. The others gave him some nods of commiseration, but since he'd planted himself right in the middle of the stacking area, it wasn't long before one of them loudly ordered him to get out of the way. Zuko hobbled far to the side, then when no one was looking, he dove behind the stacks and silently made his way deeper into the hold. Now came the most difficult part.

This ship was much bigger than his was before it exploded, but the general outlay should be similar. The armory must be about two levels up and forward. There would be guards patrolling the hallways. Zuko extended all his senses to their fullest. It was hard to tell with all the metal, but no one seemed to be behind the door leading into the ship. He slipped out into the hallway and started working his way towards his goal.

It took a lot of running and hiding at the sounds of steps, plus some ceiling-clinging when he couldn't get out of range fast enough, but eventually, he found the armory. Just his luck, there was a guard posted outside it, and he still didn't want to knock anyone out, so as not to arouse suspicion. He hid himself and waited.

The guard didn't leave, but a couple of soldiers arrived to retrieve some weapons. By the conversation they had before the guard would open the door, he was one of those lowlifes who liked to flaunt his authority. By the flag he'd seen waving above the ship, it belonged to Captain Huei, who had quite a reputation, so perhaps it wasn't so surprising he had such a man serving as a guard. Zuko's eyes narrowed.

When the soldiers had gone, Zuko snuck back and then walked out boldly into the corridor, as if he had a right to be there.

"Halt!" the guard said. "Who are you?"

"Crewman Lee," answered Zuko, putting as much cringing servility into his voice as he could. "Please, you've got to help me."

"Why?" the guard said coldly.

Zuko looked around as if afraid of being overheard. "I was supposed to show up for duty two hours ago. It's not my fault I got robbed! The bastards didn't even leave me my clothes. Please, let me in so that I can grab some armor."

"Oh, you are in for it," the guard commented, his eyes glinting.

"I know!" Zuko whisper-shouted. "Is it true what they say about Captain Huei? I don't want to be dragged behind the ship!"

"But you will be!" sing-songed the guard. "I've seen the captain do it. Strong men start pleading in ten minutes. You'd be lucky to last two."

Zuko cringed. "Have a heart, man. I – I'll owe you. Please."

"If the Captain finds out, your owing me will be worthless," the guard said primly.

"He doesn't have to find out, does he?" Zuko fumbled at his belt as if undecided. "Look, I had a couple of coins stashed away so that the robbers didn't find them. And I'm a firebender," he produced a small flame, which ought to allay any suspicion that he wasn't a soldier, "I can help you out that way. Just name it."

"I've got a family to support," announced the guard, but his voice was expectant.

Zuko pretended to believe him. "Right, right. This'll help, won't it?" he produced a gold coin and dropped it into the man's outstretched hand.

"I don't know…" the guard mused. "If the Captain docks my pay…"

Zuko produced a second gold coin, but held on to it. "This is all I've got left," he whispered with desperation in his tone.

"You won't need money where we're going, and you'll get paid after we return," the guard pointed out.

"Well… I guess you're right." Zuko handed over the coin.

"Make it quick," the guard ordered as he unlocked the door.

"Thanks!" Zuko replied as he sprinted inside.

As he pulled on the armor, he silently smirked. The man would not say a word, because otherwise, he'd implicate himself. Zuko folded the secondhand clothes and used them to pad his stomach and chest, so as to alter his shape a bit, then frowned. He understood that with the pressures of war, their nation could not afford to be too picky about recruiting. Yet men such as this guard provided weak points for the enemy to exploit. Zuko wondered whether, once he regained his place in his father's eyes, he could do something about that.

Dad had never been the same after Mom died (Zuko was pretty sure she had, because only death would have kept her away these many years). He'd become harsher, more impatient – still the father Zuko loved, but harder to approach. Zuko knew that it was probably his fault, whatever happened to Mom (she'd as much as said so herself), so he understood perfectly well why his father sometimes could barely stand the sight of him. Yet long before his uncle had given him the dagger for a present, Mom had taught him how not to give up, not even when everything came so easily to Azula and so slowly to him. _Your inner fire is so strong,_ she used to tell him. _How do you know, Mom?_ he would ask, disbelieving and hopeful._ Because I can see it burn._ He'd thought it was a metaphor at best, but now wondered.

Everyone had always said that Mom was a very weak firebender, but to his heat-sense, she always seemed warmer than almost everyone else around her, as warm as all the strongest firebenders he knew. What if that hadn't been his imagination? What if she spoke the truth, instead of trying to soothe her weak child with comforting lies, like everyone else thought? Azula had always been far stronger than him, but she didn't have his persistence. If she couldn't master something quickly, she called it stupid. Their father would listen to Azula a lot more readily than to him, but he was the one who would keep speaking. Yes. Zuko would do whatever it took to help his father improve the army and win the war, even if Dad disagreed with his methods at first.

With the faceplate firmly in place, he stepped out of the armory and walked with a firm but hurried tread out of the guard's sight. He continued on his way up, then out and down the gangplank. With an invasion of this magnitude, soldiers would find themselves transferred between the ships hurriedly. If anyone asked, he was just one more of the confused soldiers. No one asked, however, and he blended seamlessly into the general chaos of the docks.

Zhao's flagship was docked only a few berths away, but a number of high-ranked officers stood near the gangplank, arguing about something. No ordinary soldier would dare pass them, and Uncle didn't seem to have arrived yet, so Zuko waited again. A familiar voice caught his attention, and he had to fight to turn slowly. His ears had heard right. Those were several of his own crewmembers – former crewmembers – Yei and Lo Tseng, and Helmsman Zhen, and Lieutenant Jee. All four were also waiting for something, but what struck him was how downcast they all looked. Even Lo Tseng's usual near-toothless grin had been replaced by an uncommon frown.

Zuko knew, of course, after that first flare of anger had passed, that his crew were not traitors to him. They had to obey an admiral's orders, or be executed. Nonetheless, he would've expected them to be happy about finally leaving his command and going to serve under a real captain. So what was with them?

As if stretching his legs idly, he wandered closer, though he took care not to come too close. Disguised or not, they had served together some time, and they might remember some unconscious mannerism of his. Fortunately, they were talking amongst themselves, having apparently just run into each other. After they verified that each of them had been assigned to the same ship, and that most of their former crewmates would probably be there too, they fell nearly silent, and that wasn't right, either. Why weren't they taking the opportunity for gossip? Aboard ship, it had been hard to make them quit, even on duty. They weren't on duty now.

From their few remarks, Zuko found out that the ship to which they had been assigned hadn't arrived yet and might take a while, with all the berths so full. Just how many ships had Zhao pulled away from their other duties for this expedition? Zuko had a bad feeling about this.

The knot of senior officers was just beginning to thin. Zuko saw the familiar form of his uncle arrive. The man who checked new arrivals let him through immediately, but Uncle stayed to chat, as they'd planned. Zuko's concentration upon the gangplank didn't prevent him from hearing another comment behind him.

"General Iroh looks terrible. No wonder. I still can't believe it myself… poor kid," sighed someone who sounded like Lo Tseng.

"Bad way to go," agreed Yei. Were they talking about him?

"Wish I could've done something, like he did for me," said Helmsman Zhen bitterly. "Don't think it was an accident, neither." He spat.

"Hush, don't let on, it's not safe here," hissed someone, likely Jee.

The officers were finally gone and Zuko moved to take his chance, so he couldn't stay to hear more. Those few comments, however, left a heavy impression on him. Even though he would have preferred to be remembered as a "young man" at the least, not a "kid," the men seemed genuinely upset at his supposed death. He hadn't thought they would care.

It continued to bother him as he finally made his way onto Zhao's ship and began patrolling the hallways as if he belonged. He knew he had never endeared himself to the crew. Otherwise, there wouldn't have been that mutiny about a year ago. And wasn't it just a couple of weeks ago that Lieutenant Jee had berated him for a lack of "respect"? The helmsman, okay, he might feel he owed something to Zuko for saving his life, even though it was Zuko's fault in the first place that they'd been out in the storm. The rest of them, however? Maybe it was just pity for someone dying young. Zuko hoped it wasn't pity. Maybe their respect for his uncle drove them to say those things.

Zuko felt bad enough for having frightened Uncle with his near-death. He didn't like to think of being responsible for the bad mood of at least four other people. He hadn't expected them to care, and he didn't want to care about them. Thus, he made himself concentrate on his plans for parleying with the Avatar.

The next three days passed quietly. Uncle, who had an uncanny ability to find him wherever he was on the ship, came down occasionally to exchange a few words. His tone was fiercer than usual when he spoke. What was Zhao doing to him? Zuko's blood boiled at the thought of his uncle having to endure that man's slights and jeers, but he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't even ask, because Uncle would never tell him.

During a nighttime visit, Uncle handed over a complete set of warm clothes in his size. They were better by far than anything he could sneak out of the armory: lightweight, quick-drying, and off-white, so as to better blend in with the snow. Zuko still didn't quite know how to thank his uncle, so he ended up muttering stifled, embarrassed words. Thus, when they arrived at the ice city at last and night fell, Zuko wasn't too surprised to see his uncle, but wondered why his relative always had to make these things harder.

"You're fishing for an octopus, my nephew. You need a tightly woven net or he will squeeze through the tiniest hole and escape," was the first thing Uncle said after he entered.

"I don't need your wisdom right now, Uncle," Zuko gritted. He had a plan, he had his goal – worrying about metaphorical nets right now would just make it harder for him to concentrate. Zuko had the paper, inkstick, and brush in a waterproof case, and he had almost finished coiling up a good length of rope (always handy for getting over obstacles such as icy walls). He had his uncle's dagger for protection and encouragement, and a small pouch of emergency supplies, plus Mai's heart-stone to give him strength. He didn't need anything else.

"I'm sorry," Uncle said. Genuine grief sounded in his words. Zuko silently cursed himself for having spoken too harshly to Uncle again. It wasn't what he meant to do. Uncle's next words just cemented his guilt. "I just nag you because, well, ever since I lost my son…"

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Uncle, you don't have to say it," Zuko found his own voice a bit choked.

"I think of you as my own," Uncle concluded.

_And I nearly died on you, too,_ Zuko thought. In the past several years, he had often wished he were more like Lu Ten. He knew he could never replace Uncle's son, and Uncle even said that he didn't want that, but if he were more like his cousin, perhaps he could avoid hurting and disappointing his uncle quite so often. Perhaps he would know what to say to displace that look of grief from his uncle's eyes.

"I know, Uncle," he said, feeling horribly inadequate. He tried to put the respect he couldn't speak into his bow, but ended up jerking the motion short at the pulling pain in his still-healing back. Rather than fail that again, he said, "We'll meet again." He did his best to make it sound like the promise it was.

The hug caught him entirely by surprise, and it was all he could do not to hiss in pain. He endured it for a little bit, even brought his own arms to return it for a second, but he couldn't stand having so much affection before he actually earned it. Gently, he pulled back. "After I meet with the Avatar," he promised. He'd head straight back, and find Uncle. Everything would be fine. That was what he swore with his every reply to Uncle's worried warnings.

* * *

><p>On a ship, just one ship among the many gathered near the walls of the Water Tribe city, nearly a dozen men sat huddled together over a fire bin. They were waiting for something, and soon, it arrived. Lo Tseng, who had served as part-time communications officer on their old assignment, came into the room with a scroll clutched in his hand. Everyone sat up as Lo Tseng pulled up a barrel for a seat, then huddled nearer together as Lo Tseng spoke in a low voice.<p>

They all risked punishment if the wrong person should find out about this gathering, but none particularly cared. After all, each had already tasted punishment, and often several punishments. They none of them could be the sparkly clean Naval Officers that the Navy expected them to be, of the type seen on recruitment posters. The end of the line for each had been the assignment to a battered old vessel, to follow a cranky child on an impossible quest. Some of them, in the end, had found reason to respect that ill-tempered brat a little. Others didn't. None of them, however, were so far gone that they'd take the murder of a child lightly.

They thought there was nothing they could do except forget and move on. Then Zhen, who had once been First Officer on a ship used exclusively to ferry nobility around, before he offended the wrong noble, suggested a plan. Suddenly, they found that being able to do nothing didn't sit nearly so well with them as they thought it would. Zhen had connections all over the fleet. Lo Tseng had an old buddy currently posted to the admiral's flagship. Fai Gow and Tienlun had personal hawks, ones that would deliver letters outside the normal chain of communications. And everyone had a little list, of the commanders like Zhao. The ones who ought never have been promoted; the ones not worth following. The lives of these people were about to get very miserable indeed. They weren't going to murder anyone; no, they were better than that. But for once, the high and mighty would get a little taste of payback.


	8. The North Pole

**A/N: **This chapter was improved by a suggestion made by Kimberly T. that Zuko should really take the opportunity to apologize to Katara. Thank you! To everybody else: I love receiving your criticism and comments. Please, never hesitate to let me know what I could do better! The parts of this fic that I have already written have just reached over the 100,000 word mark, and I'm still only about a third of the way through Season 2. It gets hard holding all the different threads together without dropping anything, so your comments are very valuable to me in keeping on track.

**Chapter 8**

Never again, Zuko promised himself as he caught his breath inside the city tunnel. Never. No more swims through icy water. He'd find some _other_ way when it came time to leave the city. It had taken everything he had to keep himself halfway warm, and his inner fire was now flickering dangerously. He tried to stand up, but wobbled so much he fell right back down. Afraid that the noise would bring an investigation, he crawled deeper into the ice tunnels, hiding behind a turn. The sunlight barely penetrated through the layers of ice. However beautiful and ethereal, the dim glow made his head hurt, or maybe that was the icy cold, compressing his very bones. He breathed some honest fire onto his hands, noting with worry that the cone was smaller and weaker each time he tried it. He'd come too far. He couldn't give up now. He just needed to rest. Some actual sun would be good, too. As soon as he could, he crawled further into the tunnels until he found another way out.

Peering upwards carefully, he noted the location of the main building as a way to orient himself. Now, he roughly knew where he'd come out. The sunlight, weak as it was, rejuvenated him a bit, but when he tried to poke his head further out, his elbow brushed at icy water.

He'd been crawling slightly downwards, but surely not this much. The water was rising as the tide came in. He couldn't stay here.

The streets were oddly quiet, but, his heat sense told him, not entirely empty. The Avatar would be with the warriors. The warriors must be gathered near the city walls, getting ready to attack as night fell. The civilians were probably busy protecting their children and preparing nasty surprises if the city should be penetrated. Everyone would be on high alert.

Zuko crawled back into the tunnels, heading upwards at each intersection. However much he craved the sun, it was too risky, and it was nearly dusk, anyway. The sun didn't stay in the sky long, here. Just a little further, he told himself. He could hide in the night and monitor where the Avatar went. When the night ended, he could follow the Avatar to his resting-house, and then they'd talk.

He sat and forced himself to rest, even though everything in him craved action. He had to be ready for anything, and he had to succeed.

Finally, he felt that he'd regained some of his strength. Silently, he pulled himself up onto the ice pavement, then further up to the nearest rooftop. The spikes on his boots helped, but since he had never climbed on ice before (how could he have missed the necessity of training with that?), it still took a lot out of him. The ice seemed to drain what reserves of fire he had regained at an alarming rate. He considered, and dropped back down onto the street. Trying to jump from ice roof to ice roof would probably get him his neck broken. The streets were riskier in terms of being spotted, but provided more stable footing.

Zuko crept through the shadows, heading for the outer wall at first. He stopped when he was close enough to see that the Avatar's bison was just sitting there, and that the people near the walls were all of adult height. Yesterday, there had been reports of the Avatar flying around and doing damage to the ships. That he wasn't doing so today meant that the Avatar had gone elsewhere.

The Spirit Oasis, Zuko thought. However much the Avatar might dislike fighting, he would not hesitate to help in the defense of the city. That he wasn't there could only mean that he'd found something even more important to do, and based on past legends of the Avatars, he could call on either the Avatar state or on support from the spirits. Zuko turned and made his way to the oasis, all the way at the back of the city. A small wooden door, Uncle had said, as he indicated its location on the map. "It is the heart, whose beat orders the world," he'd added, whatever that meant. A subtle warning not to mess with its rhythms, or some such, would be Zuko's best guess. There it was.

A wave of blessed warmth hit him as he entered quietly. After allowing himself to pause for just one deep, balmy breath, he squared his shoulders and continued to move forward. He could hear voices now. Indistinct at first, they suddenly resolved into an unfamiliar woman speaking, "…some help?"

"No," that was Katara's voice, "he's my friend. I'm perfectly capable of protecting him." Zuko peered out carefully. Just three people were there – the woman, Katara, and Aang, who sat on the ground, his tattoos glowing. Zuko could almost taste success.

"Are you so very confident now?" he said aloud as he crossed the footbridge. She'd never struck him as the type to boast, before, and she hadn't done such a good job on their previous encounters.

The woman and Katara both turned instantly. "No!" Katara gasped.

"I'm just here to talk," he told her irritably.

"Yeah, right," she snorted as she assumed a waterbending stance. In the background, Zuko saw the woman running away, presumably to fetch help. Momo's tail poked out of some nearby bushes, but the lemur didn't come out. He seemed to want to stay out of this. At least someone didn't assume ill intentions from him at first sight, even if it was just the lemur.

He took up a defensive stance of his own, just in case. "Avatar!" he called past her. "I've come with an offer of truce."

The Avatar didn't stir, just continued glowing. "Avatar!" he called again.

"He can't hear you," Katara informed him, sounding almost happy about it. "He's crossed over into the Spirit World."

"Well, call him back! This is important!" Zuko demanded.

"Even if I could, do you think I'd fall for a trick like that? I'd never help you distract Aang with your lies, never!"

Of course he'd known that the easy acceptance she gave to the Blue Spirit wouldn't extend to Prince Zuko. He'd known that, right? It still didn't sit well with him. "When have I ever tricked you?!" _You've been tricking her for days, remember?_ He did, but since she didn't know it was him, she ought to remember that he had always kept his word as Prince Zuko, and even being the Blue Spirit wasn't so much a trick as… agh, this was getting complicated.

She just glared at him, but her hand twitched upwards a bit.

"Are you talking about your necklace? I didn't lie to you about that! I found it on the prison ship." He hesitated for a moment – he needed to apologize, but how would he explain his newfound knowledge of her mother's death? – then decided that half an apology was better than none. "I didn't realize at the time what it must mean to you. I'm sorry."

Her glare only intensified. "You're _sorry_? You expect me to buy that?"

"I mean it. It was not honorable, to use it against you," he told her. What else could he say?

"You told me yourself," she spoke in a hard tone, every word spaced out, "that you had lost your honor. So I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Obviously, you have no idea what honor is, if you seek to gain it by kidnapping Aang. And because you haven't gained any more _honor_ by your definition since then, your apology is meaningless. As are your assurances that you don't mean to trick Aang."

She knew nothing! He had always tried to be honorable! He spoke the truth and she threw it back in his face, twisted and ugly. Flames sprung up from between his clenched fists. "How dare you?!"

A wall of water doused him, knocking him down and rolling him backwards. When he looked up, Katara was just preparing another attack. She must have taken his show of temper for an attack, and he didn't have time to explain; he had to defend himself. He threw up a wall of flames just in time to deflect the twisting whip of water she sent his way. "Wait a moment!" he cried. She fought on. "Listen to me!" She didn't even pause.

"Believe what you want, then! I _am_ sorry; it's not my fault if you can't understand that, and I didn't come this far to lose to you. One way or another, I'm going to talk to the Avatar. Just stand aside." Uncle had warned him not to start a fight, and he hadn't. This was so unfair…

Her only answer was another attack. He responded with fire, trying to break her concentration for just long enough. Instead, she surprised him by an unusually large counterblow. It sent him reeling backwards, and as he struggled to stay upright, she froze the water around his feet. Swirling her arms furiously, she called up wave after wave of water to surround him. He gaped as she blocked him into a sphere of ice. So cold… he didn't know how much more cold he could stand. His body temperature was already as high as he dared push it, and still he felt cold, so cold it burned. He couldn't stand it.

"You little peasant," Zuko growled. "You've found a master and trained up quick, haven't you?" The anger fueled his reserves of fire, and he exploded the sphere into shards. Abandoning any attempt to reason with her, he slipped past her and grabbed the Avatar's collar, intending to shake the boy back to the real world. He wasn't quick enough, though. Ice crept up around him again, carrying him upwards, and the sheer agony of the cold made him lose consciousness.

The sun revived him as it touched his face with warmth. _Thank you, Agni_, he thought, half by rote and half-sincere, then sprang back into action and melted the ice. The surprise was on his side now, and the waterbender didn't block his attack entirely (though she almost managed – she really had improved a lot since the last time he'd seen her fight). She flew backwards, and her head struck a tree with an audible thud. Her body slumped.

Zuko bit back the urge to see if she was all right. She was still breathing; that had to be good enough. She could heal herself when she woke up, and the reinforcements might be here any minute. He shook the Avatar roughly; he had to get the truce talk started before any more interruptions. It was no use, though. The Avatar swung limply from Zuko's hands, still glowing.

Zuko looked around desperately. In the distance, he could now hear loud thuds and metallic creaks, as of Fire Navy ships lowering their prows to let soldiers out. Water Tribe or Fire Nation, he couldn't let any of them find him here, and nowhere in the city would be safe. He bent to lift the Avatar onto his back.

With a squeak, Momo emerged from the bushes. The little lemur stood on his hind legs, front paws held in front of him, with what Zuko could only call a sad look on his face. He didn't attack, though. He seemed to be waiting for something.

"I just need to talk to him," Zuko said. "We'll come back as soon as it's safe." It might be insane, trying to reassure a lemur, but it felt like the right thing to do. Momo squeaked more happily and flew around Zuko and the Avatar in a couple of tight loops before disappearing back into the bush. It felt like agreement and permission. Zuko shook his head at these idiotic fancies. The lemur just knew that something was different from usual, and had responsed to Zuko's calm tone rather than to his words. He had to go; he'd wasted enough time.

With the Avatar secured onto his back, Zuko began the long climb upwards onto the plateau that surrounded the city.

His head pounded and his muscles hurt down to the bone, but Zuko wouldn't let that stop him. Neither would he allow the blizzard swirling up on the plateau to stop him. He trudged on. The Avatar would wake up sooner or later, and they'd talk. In the meanwhile, Zuko kept himself busy looking for shelter.

After a close call, he found it – an overhang deep enough to shelter both of them from the storm. Dragging the Avatar inside, Zuko leaned him up against one of the walls. The Avatar seemed none the worse for his trip through a blizzard. How did he do it without fire? Zuko used his breath of fire again, yet still felt like he would never be warm again. Zuko considered tying the Avatar up with the rope, but in the end coiled it back up. Restraints might keep the overactive boy in place long enough for Zuko to explain himself, but it would make for a bad start to negotiations.

It was a long wait. Zuko found himself talking aloud once or twice, just to break the silence. Just maybe, to comfort himself, too, to keep his hopes up. This latest delay made Zuko feel drained, and he fought it. Azula was lucky, but he made his own luck, and it made him strong. He'd manage. The Avatar stirred once, but didn't wake. Zuko sighed, feeling nearly defeated, but still, he waited.

An unexpected flash of light suddenly bloomed into a painfully intense glow. When Zuko blinked back the tears from his eyes, Aang's tattoos had faded, and his eyes were open. "Welcome back," Zuko said.

Aang startled at the sight of him and tensed as if he'd been threatened. "Good to be back," he said venomously.

"We need to ta-aagh!" A blast of air had knocked him into the wall of the cave. His bruises must be getting bruises of their own by now. Outside the cave, Aang leapt over the ice, assisted by his airbending. Zuko barely picked himself up in time to take a flying leap and grab onto the Avatar's ankle. They both crashed back to the ground. "I mean you no harm!" Zuko yelled. "I wanted to arrange a truce with you!"

Aang paused, curious. Finally. The rush of relief nearly made Zuko lightheaded, and he had to stand up slowly to prevent any undignified staggering. "On behalf of the Fire Nation, under the authority of Firelord Ozai," Zuko began formally – he didn't look anything like a diplomat with his bruised face and no ceremonial robes, standing knee-deep in snow, and he couldn't remember all the long forms so the short ones would have to do, but he would do his best and do this right – "I am prepared to negotiate with you for the good of both our respective people –"

Before Zuko could say anything else, however, Aang looked up and cried "Appa!" Interrupted by the bison again? Zuko drew back, and none too soon. The snowdrift in which he'd been standing had just swirled violently upwards. "Will you at least let me finish?" he cried in Katara's direction exasperatedly.

"Dream on!" she yelled back, and raised a flail of snow as soon as her feet touched the ground. Zuko sent a fireball in her direction, not hoping for more than to slow her down, but once again, she encased him in ice, and he blacked out.

* * *

><p>Katara had rarely felt so relieved in her life as when Zuko finally hit the ground and Aang proved to be okay. With hardly a pause, Aang announced, "We need to get to the Oasis! The Spirits are in trouble!" Before she could even nod, he ran over to Appa's side, then suddenly paused. "Wait, we can't just leave him here."<p>

"Sure we can! Let's go," Sokka argued.

"No, if we leave him, he'll die," Aang said determinedly.

While still grumbling about how it made a lot of sense to bring the guy trying to kill them, Sokka slid down Appa's side to help Aang with the unconscious firebender. "Hey! This is some quality rope! How'd you slip out of it?"

"Huh? He didn't tie me up, Sokka." Aang heaved Zuko aboard with airbending. "He was trying to make a truce, he said."

"He said the same thing to me, but then he attacked," Katara interrupted, eager to share that information. "I don't think we can trust him."

Aang's face gave away his conflicted thoughts as he steered Appa back to the Oasis. "I know, but why would he try to tell me he wanted a truce, then? I mean, if he just wanted to fool me into not fighting him, he'd probably say that he changed his mind and no longer wanted to fight me, right?"

"We don't know how he thinks," Sokka put in. "If he wanted a truce, why did he drag you all the way out here? After knocking Katara out, no less?" Sokka grumbled something under his breath about how the jerk deserved a lot of thumps on the head for that one, not a cushiony ride.

While gratified by Sokka's concern, Katara still put her hand on his arm. "I'm fine, Sokka. He thought he'd be facing a helpless little girl and got a waterbending master instead. You should have seen the look on his face!"

Sokka snickered and threw her a proud glance. "That's my sister. You got him good, judging by all the cuts and bruises."

"I didn't do that," Katara protested. "He already looked like that when he came in. But I did get him good."

"Well, whoever messed him up has my gratitude," Sokka announced.

"Guys," Aang said without turning around, "what if something happened to him that really made him want a truce?"

"Like what?" she asked curiously.

"I don't know!" Aang threw up his hands. "I think we should hear what he has to say for himself, though."

"Maybe you're right," she mused.

"Did you all just forget the 'must capture Aang' part?" Sokka demanded. "He's still dangerous."

"So we'll get Katara to freeze him in place and _then_ hear what he has to say. It can wait, anyway – the spirits need our help first."

"We could tie him up with his own rope," Sokka grinned, but when he went to carry out the threat, that smile fell a bit. "Hey, Katara, I thought at first it was just a firebender thing, but… his skin is really hot. Do firebenders get fevers?"

"How should I know?" she answered, and scrambled over to see for herself. Whoa, that was like a furnace blast. "For one of us, it definitely wouldn't be normal, but he's not red or sweating, and he's breathing normally, so it may not be a fever." She thought for a moment. "But probably is. When he teamed up with those pirates, he grabbed my hands to restrain me, and I think they were very warm, but not like this."

Sokka muttered some very unflattering things about anyone who dared to touch his little sister. Katara pretended not to hear him. Really, she would just as soon not attach _those_ implications to what had, at the time, been a humiliating-enough bit of idiocy on her part. "Just calm down, Sokka. He's not a match for any of us even healthy."

Her brother subsided. Less than five minutes later, the moon suddenly turned red. Yue and Aang both complained of feeling faint. Katara almost offered to heal them, but realized that she herself felt oddly powerless. Something must have happened to the Moon Spirit, indeed. Feeling helpless, and angry at that, she clenched her hands and silently urged Appa to hurry.

Yue's story about having been saved by the Moon Spirit as a child didn't make the ride any shorter or help with the anxiety, but it gave Katara something else to focus on. Was that why Yue and Aang felt faint while she, a master waterbender, just felt drained of her power? Were they both spirit-touched? Sokka had spent a day in the Spirit World, but he didn't seem to be feeling anything out of the ordinary. At least, nothing to which he admitted. Was he hiding something out of misplaced pride? The worry gave her another thing to think about until they arrived at the Oasis.

Zhao was there – holding a sack with one of the koi inside. His control over the Moon Spirit forced Aang to raise his hands in a gesture of surrender. Much as Katara hated seeing that, she knew that Aang was absolutely right – nothing was more important than keeping the Moon Spirit alive, so that the world didn't lose its balance.

_He said he'd keep me alive, just barely._ Aang had glossed over that part, but Katara had never been able to forget it. Was that the fate Zhao had in mind for the Moon Spirit? How cruel and crazy could one man be?

Apparently, cruel and crazy enough that even other firebenders wouldn't stand for it. General Iroh seemed to appear out of nowhere, but his arrival turned out a welcome distraction. Even Zhao didn't seem to dare go against the General, and for a moment, Katara thought that everything would still turn out well as the fish slipped back into the pond and the moon regained its normal color. Only a moment, though. With the most twisted expression Katara had ever seen on a human face, Zhao blasted fire at the koi.

The moon went out.

Katara almost collapsed at the loss of the flow of energy inside her.

Faintly, she could hear the sounds of battle nearby, and when she managed to clear her mind through sheer stubborn effort, she saw that the General had made good on his threat, given the number of firebenders sprawled on the ground. They were out of time, though. Yue spoke like an echo of Katara's thoughts. "There's no hope now. It's over."

* * *

><p>Zuko woke up to an unnatural darkness, lightened only by flashes of fire. He turned his head painfully to look. <em>Uncle! He made it!<em> was Zuko's first thought. Behind his uncle, however, he could see Zhao tiptoeing away. Fury and fear at the possibility that Zhao planned a sneak attack lent him strength, and he slid down off the bison without pause. Zhao would not get away with it this time.

He pursued Zhao through the city, no longer caring about staying hidden. At last, they fought. Zhao recovered quickly from the shock of seeing Zuko alive, and justified murder by calling Zuko an enemy of the Fire Nation. Zuko would not let him get away with such slander, on top of everything else he'd done.

Zhao deflected every one of his fire blasts, at first. "You should have accepted your failure, your disgrace," he taunted. He didn't know it, but it was the worst thing he could have said if he wanted an easy victory. Zuko had had three years of practice in fighting against acceptance of those things. He beat Zhao once; he could do it again. Within minutes, he had Zhao flat on his back.

"No! It can't be!" Zhao cried in real fear, but he wasn't looking at Zuko. It was the moon he stared at – the moon which had emerged again from the uncanny darkness. A flash of irritation that Zhao still didn't consider him dangerous passed through Zuko, but before he could do anything about it, a blue glow began to curl over the bridge. Instinctively, Zuko rolled away. Back on his feet again, he saw Zhao clutched in an enormous blue fist that rose from the water, struggling without making the slightest headway.

It didn't matter that Zhao was his enemy. That thing was a horror. "Take my hand!" he cried, straining to reach forward. For a second, Zhao reached back, then with an indecipherable look in his eyes, pulled his arm in towards his chest. The spirit hand plunged beneath the water, taking Zhao with it.

_He drowned,_ thought Zuko numbly. _He drowned. That icy water… how long could he last, with the thing holding him under?_ Zuko's whole body still remembered being trapped beneath a layer of ice, freedom and air just on the other side. Zhao couldn't save himself. Zuko felt numb.

He didn't know how long he knelt there on the bridge, but sounds of movement eventually made him stir. He had to go; if he got captured now, it'd be the same as giving up. They'd kill him, and he couldn't do that to Uncle. Uncle… he had to find him. Back to the oasis?

No, something told him that Uncle was no longer there. Where, though? Zuko closed his eyes, no longer sure he had the strength to search the city. He must, though. He wanted to go to Uncle. Despite his failure, Uncle would hug him warmly. He didn't deserve it, but he was so cold…

A whisper at the back of his mind told him where that warmth could be found. Southeast, not too far. He was too tired to question it, and just started moving. Southeast was as good a direction as any other. It was Uncle who spotted him first, and drew him down behind an empty house to hide. "Zuko," he whispered with joy and relief.

Zuko clutched at his uncle's arm, his own relief making his head reel. "Are you all right?" was all he could manage.

"I should be asking you that," Uncle nearly laughed. "I'm fine."

Zuko nodded, meaning "me too."

"We have to go quickly," Uncle whispered. "Stay here for a little while, and stay hidden. I'll get us some help."

Zuko stared blankly, unsure of where in a city of waterbenders Uncle thought he could find help. He didn't question it, though. His mind had pretty much shut down, and he had trouble remembering anything past the fight with Zhao. Uncle had been here, hadn't he? It wasn't just his imagination?

A short while later, Uncle came back and they started moving again. It cleared his mind a little. "Uncle!" Zuko hissed as he spotted a blue-clad person nearby.

"He's going to help us get out," Uncle whispered back calmly. "Don't look at him."

Indeed, a small hole opened up in the ice wall in front of them. They slipped through, and the hole closed behind them. Twice more, the maneuver was repeated, and then they were out on the shore of the ocean.

Uncle pointed towards a pile of logs and planks lying on the shore; some sort of project abandoned due to the attack, perhaps. "Give me your rope; we're going to make a raft," he explained. "Quietly, now. They won't be looking in this direction very much while they rebuild the city, but we should still conceal ourselves as much as possible.

Under Uncle's guidance, the raft took shape. Uncle even heaved a mast into place, using a spare cloak for a makeshift sail.

They pushed off from shore in the predawn grey. For once, the light of the sun rising didn't ease Zuko, because it only revealed horrors to him. Wreckages of Fire Nation ships strewed the water. Corpses floated here and there, with ice glazed over their faces already. Zuko reached out with his heat-sense, and it was empty, so empty. No life that he could feel; no one that he could help. He reached further. Still nothing but emptiness. "What… what happened here, Uncle?" he croaked.

"It was the Avatar and the Ocean Spirit working together," Uncle answered quietly. "Zhao tried to kill the Moon Spirit, and despite me trying to stop him, succeeded."

"But the moon came back!"

"Only because of the sacrifice of a brave young woman," Uncle explained. Zuko listened to the story of Yue with fascination and unease. Spirit-related things were not his forte.

"You said the Ocean Spirit had something to do with this?" he gestured at the death-filled water.

"When he saw his beloved die, he wanted revenge. The Avatar joined forces with him. Surely you saw the glowing blue fish-creature with the Avatar inside?"

Zuko only now vaguely recalled seeing something like that while he'd fought with Zhao. "So… the Avatar did all this?"

"Not alone, but yes, he destroyed our fleet and drove the invasion out of the city."

Zuko couldn't speak for a moment. "He did… all this? And I thought I could make a truce with him? I'm such a fool, Uncle. I should have captured him while I had the chance."

"Prince Zuko," Uncle began, but Zuko motioned for him to be quiet. He really couldn't bear to hear it right now. For once, Uncle heeded that signal.

Zuko remained standing, staring out at the devastation. He wanted to cry at his own idiocy. His father had been right; the Avatar must be stopped at any cost. It didn't matter that he looked like a child. That child had killed without thought. All those soldiers, half of them new recruits… The Avatar hadn't even given them a chance. It was one thing to die in battle; everyone knew it could happen. You fought as well as you could, and you relied on your comrades, and you trusted to luck. It was another thing entirely to face a giant force of nature; how could anyone defend against that? The Avatar hadn't even given them a chance. It was cowardly; it was cruel; it was what he should have expected from an enemy of the Fire Nation.

He should have tied the Avatar up when he had the chance. He should never have imagined he could make a truce with such a monster. He pursued Zhao when it had been absolutely unnecessary; instead, he should have stayed to restrain the Avatar. If nothing else, he could have distracted the Avatar by insisting on the truce talks; it would have been useless, obviously, but it would have given his people more time to get away. He'd been so blind and stupid, making mistakes at every turn. He really was a failure, and this time, even capturing the Avatar would not make up for everything.

"I saw Zhao die," he said, not even quite aware at first that he spoke aloud. "The blue thing drowned him. He never had a chance."

"He killed the Moon Spirit," Uncle answered quietly. "He would have known of the price that carries, had his pride allowed him to listen."

Maybe. Maybe Zhao alone of all the dead deserved that fate. Zuko had certainly been willing enough to kill him himself. Not like that, though. Not dragged underneath the water into the eternal cold. Zuko flashed back on the look Zhao gave him as he refused help. Was it hate so strong that even imminent death wouldn't allow him to accept help from an enemy? Or was it instead, compassion, in his last moments? A desire not to let even the man he previously tried to assassinate die in a vain attempt at rescue? They were both Fire Nation. Zhao would have instinctively understood the same thing that Zuko did. You didn't hesitate when facing an enemy, but you did so with honor. Maybe Zhao had remembered those important things, at the end. Zuko would never know.


	9. Adrift on the Ocean

**Chapter 9**

Iroh cast sideways glances at Zuko, worried at the way his nephew kept staring out at the water. Their raft was moving relatively quickly now, aided by a breeze. All Iroh had to do was adjust the sail from time to time, so that they didn't smash into anything. At last, he decided to break the silence with the one thing guaranteed to get a reaction out of Zuko.

"I am surprised, Prince Zuko," he began. "Surprised that you are not at this moment trying to capture the Avatar." He peered sideways to see the effect. Of course, he was not actually surprised. He hoped that Zuko would angrily yell that they were stuck aboard a small raft; that Zuko's temper would flare and carry him out of this blank staring.

Zuko didn't even twitch. "I'm tired," was the only reply he gave.

It was bad, then; Zuko didn't even realize that he could stop chasing the Avatar right at this moment. Though he did sound very tired. "Then you should rest," Iroh said with a small smile as he placed a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "A man needs his rest."

Zuko obeyed him without hesitation, for once, and Iroh would have been happy, if not for the look in his nephew's eyes before they closed. It would have been a look of self-loathing, if not for the profound fatigue that transformed it into a look of defeat. Iroh had waited three years for Zuko to give up his impossible quest – but not like this. This would kill Zuko's spirit. He could only hope that the impossible determination, which he had privately cursed more than once, would not abandon Zuko now.

Being a pragmatic man, Iroh pushed the worry about Zuko to the back of his mind for the moment and started thinking instead of how they would survive this journey. The hurried conference with Master Pakku hadn't provided enough time for Pakku to retrieve some supplies for them. All they had, they carried with them.

Zuko must have a few rations in his emergency kit, but who knew when they would reach land? They should hoard those rations as long as possible. Water was the bigger concern, in any case. Iroh kept a sharp lookout, and at last spotted a likely-looking iceberg. He steered for it as best he could, and the raft held despite thumping into the iceberg's side. Iroh grabbed hold of one of the projections and it nearly wrenched him off his feet. With a deep breath, he took a solid stance and drew upon his chi to counteract the pulling force of the current. The raft rocked and stabilized. With his free hand, he began to use precision firebending to slice away chunks of ice. Some fell into the water, but enough landed on the raft to last them for a little while. Once Zuko woke up, he could help with the task, and they could stockpile the ice, though he wasn't sure whether they could keep it from melting once they entered warmer waters.

Zuko hadn't even stirred at all the rocking and thumping. Once they were underway again, Iroh swept the chunks of ice closer to the mast so that they'd be less likely to fall off, and went to check on Zuko. His forehead seemed rather cold, and Iroh frowned. Taking off his cloak, he warmed the cloth and tucked it around Zuko, hoping that it would be enough. He lay down beside his nephew and tried to get some rest.

He slept deeply, but woke up still feeling tired. That wasn't uncommon for him, ever since his journey into the Spirit World. It had taken a lot out of him, literally; his spirit was half-unwound from his body already. Everyone, even Zuko, thought that he must be lazy to sleep so much. The truth was that it took a lot of effort to maintain his energy, but he didn't think it was anyone's business but his own.

It was nighttime now. Zuko lay sprawled across the boards in the same pose. His forehead was now hot and damp, but he shivered in his sleep. Iroh tore off a strip of cloth and dipped it into the cold ocean before placing it on his nephew's forehead. There was little more he could do. The emergency kit held some wound-treatment herbs, but no fever-reducing agents.

He kept replacing the cloth as needed. About an hour later, Zuko at last began to stir, but it wasn't an awakening. Instead, Zuko seemed trapped in some sort of bad dream. Iroh couldn't really make out what the slurred words were, but one caught at him. Intuition told him what it must mean. "I betrayed."

"Zuko!" Iroh shook his nephew, "This is not the time! Wake up!" Fear of a kind he hadn't known in a long time gripped him. This wasn't a natural illness, after all. In safety, with blankets and hot broth and tea, Iroh was sure he could have nursed Zuko through it. It would only have led to good finally winning out, he knew. Here on a raft with none of those things, Zuko could easily slip away.

"You must fight!" he kept telling Zuko. Eventually, those eyes opened, though they were still fever-glazed. "Zuko, you didn't betray anyone. There's no need for this war inside yourself. Please, Nephew, you must listen to me."

"'Msorry, Uncle," Zuko slurred.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, except not waking up." Iroh gripped Zuko's shoulders more fiercely.

"Tired…"

"You need to fight!"

Zuko's eyes actually opened a little wider at that. "Wha's-rong?"

"You must fight this fever," Iroh ordered him.

"Danger?"

"Yes, danger."

Zuko began to sit up, though Iroh had to support him. His eyes seemed a little clearer. "Weak… not good for much," he apologized sadly.

"All you need to do is fight off this illness," Iroh promised him.

Zuko's face scrunched up in thought. "I'm sick?"

"Yes, you have a fever."

Zuko looked around them. "I should have helped you instead of sleeping," he observed quite lucidly.

"I would welcome your help, but in fact, I do want you to sleep and regain your strength. Just don't let this illness get any further. It feeds on the conflict inside you. Don't let it take over you."

"Because we have no medicine," Zuko acknowledged. "I'll try." His face contorted with effort.

"No, Zuko, remember what I said about conflict?"

"I'm not conflicted right now," Zuko opened his eyes. "I need to get well and help you."

Iroh almost said that he didn't need any help, but bit his tongue in time. If it helped his nephew put aside the war inside him for the moment, what did it matter if it weren't true?

Amazingly, the illness did leave soon after that. Although still a bit weak and tired, Zuko recovered quickly. He still seemed listless, however. While always ready to do his share of chipping ice or adjusting the sail, he spent a lot of time just sitting, staring blankly at the sea. Iroh wasn't feeling particularly energetic himself, what with the constant hunger and the cold, but he could always find endless entertainment within his own thoughts. Zuko obviously couldn't, and didn't seem to appreciate Iroh's attempts to draw him out. When questioned directly, he denied that there was anything wrong. When asked why he had thought that his actions were in any way, shape, or form similar to betrayal, he claimed that it had been a hallucination brought on by fever, and that he didn't actually believe that. There wasn't much Iroh could do when Zuko was so determined not to talk.

The only question he asked Iroh, about three days in, was whether people who drowned instead of being burned with the proper funeral rites would remain lost.

"No," Iroh assured him. "Only the living need specific rites. In the Spirit World, everybody finds their own way."

"We don't deal well with deep water and with cold, so why would death change that? They must feel lost…"

"Prince Zuko, the Water Tribe healers are deeply connected to the spiritual. Even if any of our people felt lost, they would not wish to have wandering spirits of the Fire Nation around their home. They will help anyone who is lost to find their way."

"How would water help fire?"

"In the Spirit World, there are no elements. Everything is in balance; all the earthly divisions are indistinct there. No one bends in the spirit world, because only living bodies are so attached to one element over another. You don't need to worry."

Zuko didn't seem entirely comforted, but he dropped the subject.

Iroh wondered whether it had been such a good idea to interrupt the internal conflict within Zuko. What if the lack of resolution was the thing draining life out of him? He could only hope they would get to land soon, and then they would have a talk. They'd have a fantastic meal, too. Zuko was a growing boy, still, and food should always help. Iroh wasn't a growing boy by many years, but he'd learned not to underestimate the power of food. Chuckling slightly, he patted his stomach. He planned that future meal out in great detail, until he could almost smell the meats and taste the spices.

Thoughts of food and sleep; these were the two great joys of navigating through the endless ocean. The actual distance between the ice shelf and the coast of the Earth Kingdom was not that great, but the Northern Collar Current was their enemy. Its warm upswell saved them from freezing too badly, but it kept them from completing their journey. The sail helped them to fight the current, which flowed so strongly here, but not by much. They made some progress south, but every day, they were carried further to the west.

Both of them kept a lookout for fish, but in these deep waters, they rarely saw any. The ones they did see tended to be too far below the surface to hit with a fireball, and they had no other way of catching the fish. Zuko did score a direct hit once, on a walrus-shark which had surfaced too close to the raft, but the wind had been against them and the corpse sank beneath the waves before they could get the raft close enough to retrieve it. Iroh had brought down one of the sea vultures that started circling above them about three days into their journey, and between them, he and Zuko managed to cook it, but the meat proved so foul as to be inedible.

Zuko had six rations tucked away. After five days of nothing but meltwater (plus that horrible excuse of a vulture), Iroh decided they would each eat one, or soon they would not have enough strength to melt the ice for drinking. It ought to be safe enough; it might take them another week to get past the current to land, but they'd make it.

Because they had nothing better to do, a long argument preceded the meal, on how exactly they would split the two rations. Iroh argued that as an old man, he didn't need as much as a growing young man, so Zuko should take half of his ration. Zuko countered that as a healthy young man, he didn't need to eat as much to keep his strength up as an older man would, so Uncle Iroh should take half of _his_ ration. Iroh pointed out the vastly superior reserves of fat he had. Zuko demonstrated the greater strength he had. Iroh alluded to the journey through the Spirit World which had inured him to earthly privations. Zuko alluded to the three years of constant training which had inured him to mere pangs of hunger. They managed to keep the argument going for hours. If it weren't so deadly serious, it would have been hysterically funny.

It ended in a stalemate, of course, with each of them eating their one ration, and keeping a very close eye on each other, to guard against any pieces of food being "accidentally" slipped into the wrong wrapper. The food revived Iroh a bit, and he did laugh at the memory of their argument, even as he wondered what else he might use the next time they divided their rations. Zuko didn't join him in the laughter, but some of that bleakness seemed to fade from his eyes, and he looked out at the sea with something approaching actual curiosity, rather than blankness.

Only two days later, a hand on his shoulder shook Iroh out of a doze. "What is it, Prince Zuko?" he mumbled sleepily.

"What do you make of that, Uncle?" asked Zuko as he pointed to a wall of black clouds at the southern end of the sky.

The sleepiness vanished. "A storm, and a bad one. You were right to wake me. We need to prepare."

They took down the sail and used it to wrap their reserves of ice instead, before tying the bundle securely to the base of the mast. The weight of it might act as ballast, preventing them from tipping over if the waves got bad. Iroh also retrieved the various pieces of unused rope they had left, and made quick work of joining them back into one rope with secure knots. He tied the middle of it around the mast and handed one end to Zuko. "Ordinarily, sailors of wooden ships tie themselves to the mast for security, but that might be a mistake if the raft flips, after all. Wrap the rope around your waist, instead, in such a way that you can easily slip it off if you need to, but keep good hold of it, too. If anything happens, try to hang on to the rope and find the upper surface of the raft – whichever surface it might happen to be."

Zuko quickly complied. "What else?"

"Now we can only wait," Iroh sighed as he sat down crosslegged. Zuko did the same, and they both stared at the rapidly approaching clouds. The wind began to howl and the raft rocked nauseatingly. Then rain began to come down in sheets – and it really felt like being slapped in the face with layer after layer of wet cloth. It wasn't nearly as bad as the storm in which they nearly lost the helmsman, but on a raft rather than a metal ship, it felt worse. They both clung to the raft with white-knuckled hands. Iroh didn't pray, but he whispered, "La, I tried to protect your beloved." The howling wind carried away his voice.

Then it happened; a confluence of high waves battered their raft. It creaked piteously, and a crack began to form down the middle. "Zuko, watch out!" he yelled, not even sure he'd be heard over the noise of the storm. However, Zuko nodded, tense and ready for anything. Another few minutes passed without incident, and Iroh began to hope it would be that easy, but no. Little by little, the crack widened. A wave slammed against the raft from beneath, and the boards suddenly gave. With only time for a frantic gulp of breath, Iroh found himself dunked in the ocean.

The rope still held; that was good. It was almost calm beneath the waves. Iroh surfaced; in that brief instant, he saw Zuko sprawled across what was left of the raft, hands busy trying to pull him in. Then the curl of a wave pulled him under again. Iroh bent fire out of his feet, and though little emerged into the cold water, it was enough to propel him closer to the raft. He almost made it when another sucking pull of water caught at him, and the rope slipped from his numb hands for a critical instant. His reflexes kicked in, and he tried to recapture the rope, but it drifted tantalizingly out of reach.

He kept trying, of course, using all his strength and mental power to prevent himself from losing sight of the rope entirely, and he managed to stay close, just not close enough. The water resisted his every motion, and the days of nothing to eat had taken their toll. He only had an instant to wonder whether he might lose this fight, because in the next, he saw Zuko fighting through the water towards him.

Despite instinctive panic, it didn't seem like Zuko had fallen overboard, but jumped deliberately. He was still holding his rope; good work. Were his eyes playing tricks on him, or was there a bit of a blue glow around Zuko which ought not to be there? He didn't have long to ponder it; Zuko reached him, caught his arm, and pulled him upwards towards the surface.

Iroh gasped for breath, more relieved than he'd care to admit. "Zuko, you shouldn't have left the raft; you won't have the leverage to pull us both in against the weight of the waves," he managed to yell between breaths.

"Then we'll wait till the storm subsides," Zuko yelled back with familiar determination. "I've got you, Uncle. Just hang on."

"Wait; we can do better than that. Bend fire on my mark from your feet, and we'll head for the raft. It'll be easier once we can use it to float. One, two… mark!"

In unison, they blasted their way towards the raft. It wasn't easy, but working together, they made it. They hung on to the piece of wood for a while, just catching their breaths. The rain began to subside little by little. With an effort, Zuko heaved himself out of the water and flopped crosswise across what was now a log with a few boards attached and another piece of wood (their former mast), connected to it by the remains of rope. Zuko pulled the mast in and pushed it underneath the edges of the boards, then tied it in place. The result was a narrow, relatively level platform, not even big enough for both of them to lie down on. The red bundle containing their ice was still attached to one end, but proved to have ripped during the storm. Only a few tiny chunks remained trapped in the cloth. They had nearly no water, no food, and the remains of a piece of driftwood.

They both made the same assessment, it seemed. Zuko helped Iroh up onto the planks, which rocked dangerously under Iroh's weight; Zuko immediately shifted to the part of the log which stuck out in front of the planks, where he perched awkwardly. "We'll have to sleep in turns," he said. "You first."

"Prince Zuko," Iroh protested.

"Uncle Iroh," Zuko mimicked. "You didn't get enough sleep before the storm, and it'll be safer for both of us if neither of us gets too tired."

"You can't stay in your current position for hours," Iroh argued.

Zuko shifted uncomfortably. "So I'll take a dip in the ocean whenever I need to restore my circulation."

"Do you even understand how cold that water is going to get? It's so easy to think that you're fine, when you're losing consciousness because of the cold."

"It'll be fine if I just do it for a minute. In fact, it ought to be invigorating. I'll use a loop of rope for safety, but you don't need to lecture me about cold. I didn't tell you how I got into the North Pole, did I?"

Iroh shook his head.

"I swam. Through tunnels filled with water far colder than this. You were right about the breath of fire, by the way, and I haven't somehow managed to forget that lesson between then and now. I'll be fine. The sooner you get some rest, the sooner you can spell me."

If Iroh had more energy, he would have yelled at Zuko for doing something so stupid as going for a swim at the North Pole, but… Zuko had obviously survived. This water was relatively warm due to the current, and they couldn't afford to exhaust themselves with arguing for another few hours. What Zuko said did make sense, so with reluctance, Iroh lay down and quickly fell asleep from exhaustion.

The rest of their journey, another two weeks, was something Iroh was glad later not to remember too clearly. They came to rely on each other more than ever; with their strength fading by the day, whoever had most recently rested would make sure to keep them both warm. The stimulants from Zuko's emergency kit made up a little for the lack of food, though they took their toll on both Iroh's and Zuko's weight and muscle. They would have to each work hard to train, once they made it to land, but it was an acceptable sacrifice.

Once their reserves of ice ended, with no more icebergs in sight, the only way they could obtain water was by taking the heat out of the sea water until it froze to remove the salt, and that nearly took more energy than they could afford. Zuko was the one who came up with the idea of using the dagger as a conductor to help the ice crystals form more quickly; Iroh was the one who carved a small wooden bowl from a piece of the log on which they drifted, so that they didn't need to damage their hands by freezing the water in them. The temperature of the air stayed warm enough during the day that it did not take long for the ice to melt, so they were spared at least that exertion. Constant thirst was now their companion, and a poor one at that. Iroh much preferred Zuko's company.

They talked now when their throats were not too dry; rambling conversations about anything and everything that helped pass the time. Iroh didn't like the way that Zuko spoke about his actions at the North Pole – as far as Iroh could see, he'd tried his best and would have succeeded if he had a little more time and space to convince the Avatar of his sincerity, but Zuko seemed to blame himself for everything that happened that day. About the only thing he didn't try to assign to himself was the moon's death. Iroh didn't know how to convince him otherwise. At one point, Iroh nearly panicked when Zuko declared that even if he captured the Avatar, there was no hope now.

"No, Zuko! You must never give in to despair. Allow yourself to slip down that road and you surrender to your lowest instincts. In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength."

Zuko lowered his head to rest on the log between his hands for a moment and breathed out. His voice came out muffled. "You're probably right, but… it's hard."

"I know," Iroh told him with sympathy.

"Mom said…" Zuko swallowed audibly, "that I was someone who would keep trying even when it was hard."

"Do you doubt her wisdom?" Iroh asked with gentle insinuation.

"No. No, I don't." His tone was firm.

"Then you'll find a way."

"I hope so, Uncle." He sounded so tired…

Another time, Zuko asked, seemingly out of nowhere, "How many of our people died, do you think?"

Oh, no. "It is hard to tell," Iroh stalled for time. "The Ocean Spirit wrecked a large number of ships, it's true, but those would have been nearly empty, as the soldiers were inside the city at the time. They were probably captured and kept for ransom. Of the other ships, most should have been able to escape. The attack didn't last more than a few minutes, after all."

Zuko did not seem comforted. "Ransom… How does the Water Tribe treat prisoners?"

"I don't know," Iroh admitted. "They had none while I was there."

"My father would probably help the families of the officers with their ransoms, but what about everybody else?"

"I don't know. But do not despair. The Water Tribe warriors are honorable. Perhaps this failed invasion will finally allow our two peoples to talk to each other, and begin to reestablish the ties we lost so many years ago."

Zuko snorted – he did not think it was likely. Little more was said on the topic, but Iroh was sure that Zuko thought about it often.

On the day they finally spotted land, both of them were nearly too out of it to notice, at first. Only the loud cries of birds alerted them; the sea vultures were mostly silent. With the last of their energy, they both steered the raft for shore with fire bent from their feet and when the sand of the beach finally supported them, neither could move for a while. Their raft drifted out to sea again, and Iroh was glad to see the last of it.

Zuko was the first to stir when the tide began to come in – there was something to be said for the resilience of youth, after all. Leaning on each other, they hobbled up the beach before collapsing again. Iroh stared at the waves lapping the shore. "Zuko! That seaweed – it should be edible. There may be mollusks, too, on those rocks."

With many pauses to rest, they each gathered some seaweed; by silent agreement, they realized that prying shells open would have to come later. The tough and salty strands weren't particularly nutritious – certainly nothing like the feast Iroh had visualized – but after days of almost nothing, they couldn't eat much without risking the danger of throwing up, anyway. The last ration had been eaten two days ago, split evenly without so much as an argument.

They rested on that beach for nearly a day, sleeping and eating little by little until they regained some of their strength. A walk brought them to a stream, and although it was brackish near the shore, further upstream, they could finally drink their fill.

Without needing to discuss it, they searched for a road, and once they found one, they followed it. The important thing now was to figure out where they were. They stayed close to the shore, so as not to become too disoriented. At last, a turn in the road revealed a broad river spilling gently over a waterfall, and a beautiful conglomeration of houses built on stilts across the river. That architecture, those trees like fluffy clouds of red petals… "Uncle," Zuko broke the silence, "isn't this that resort you liked?"

"And you didn't – you thought it was a waste of time," Iroh chuckled. "Yes, I remember. Ah, what a stroke of luck! A little pampering would be just the thing right now."

"An expensive resort, as I recall," Zuko frowned. "How much money do we have?"

After they pooled their stashes together, it was a respectable sum, but one which wouldn't last for more than a week at resort prices. Zuko frowned again. "We can request aid from the nearest Fire Nation outpost, I suppose," he said uncertainly.

"We certainly ought to let them know we survived, but aid? I am not sure we can count on much of that. Remember, the Fire Navy had just suffered a great loss, and they will be pouring all they have into rebuilding."

Zuko's expression became harsh. "I remember," he bit off.

Iroh touched his shoulder. "We'll send a hawk, and we'll make our way on foot to the main shipyards in the west coast colonies. By the time we arrive there, your father will have probably already found another ship for us."

"Another ship… yes…" Zuko echoed hollowly. By the look on his face, it just hit him again that he was not welcome at home. Iroh wished he could do something to wipe that look off his nephew's face, but barring a miraculous change in Ozai, it was beyond his power.

Iroh put on his cheeriest expression instead, in an attempt to lead by example. "In the meantime, we can enjoy ourselves for a few days! Rest, eat, get massages – ooh, my poor back, how it could use one!"

"We should sell our clothes," Zuko added in a flat tone.

"Eh?" Iroh paused in the middle of a stretch.

"My clothes, in particular, are made from expensive silk, and yours should fetch a good price, too, even worn as they are. If we sell them and buy something cheaper, we can extend our reserves of money."

"What a bright nephew I have!" Iroh beamed.

Zuko still didn't seem pleased. "And Uncle?"

"Yes, Nephew?"

"With all respect, I should hold the money for us." He nearly quailed at the look Iroh threw him, but persevered. "We need to spend it wisely."

"Are you saying that I am not wise?" Iroh demanded.

"Of course not! Uh, that's not what I'm saying! You're wise! Yes! Wiser than I'll ever be! But you do have a tendency to buy junk."

"Really?" Iroh inquired mildly. "What exactly do you encompass by the term 'junk'?"

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. "Uncle, we don't have a shipful of soldiers to carry our purchases for us anymore. All we buy, we'll be carrying on our backs. We'll need to travel light."

"What you say is true," Iroh acknowledged. "I still want to know, however, what exactly it is you believe I will waste our money on."

"Whatever catches your eye – how should I know?" Zuko answered impatiently.

"Nephew, if we are speaking plainly, here – you have yet to develop an appreciation for the true value of things. The narrowness of your insight does not bode well for any future purchases we might make."

Zuko closed his eyes and obviously bit back a number of responses. "Uncle," he sighed at last, "I know that none of this money is truly mine. Either you earned it during your distinguished career, or my father did, as the ruler of our nation. This particular insight might be a narrow one, but it has made me careful of what we spend. Care is what we need right now, can't you see that?"

Iroh measured his reply. "We just spent three weeks with nothing, and you seem to think that we should continue to have nothing. I agree, we should be wise with our money – but careful? No, too much care is not what we need."

"That's not what I meant! You deserve everything you want. Just – until we are certain of where our next bit of money is coming from, we can't just fling it down on anything and everything. It's just for a little while," he pleaded.

Iroh held up a finger. "You still forget – a kettle which is put on the fire for too long cracks when all the water has boiled out. I say we need a true rest before exerting ourselves further, and destiny itself has brought us to the best possible place to obtain that rest."

Zuko shrugged in defeat. "Fine. We'll stay here a couple of days before moving on."

"Three days, at least," Iroh put in quickly.

Zuko grunted.

"We will both go shopping for supplies later," Iroh said. "Between us, we should be able to obtain a good compromise on what is a necessity."

His nephew looked pained, no doubt anticipating a lot of arguing before that compromise could be reached, but nodded. "We'll stop by a tea shop first," he offered in a conciliating manner. "I don't expect you to go a moment longer without tea, after your horrible three weeks of deprivation." Was that a tiny smile?

Iroh beamed. "Ah, you have hit upon the crux of the matter, my nephew! It was horrible, indeed; I am sure you must feel it yourself."

"You can have my cup, Uncle. You clearly need it more than I do." Yes, that was definitely a smile at last. Iroh put an arm around his nephew's shoulders, and they walked towards the resort.

"I am not so very selfish as all that, Prince Zuko. Yet a whole extra cup just for me? I am not sure I can resist the temptation, though I will do my best."

"I know you have taught me that it is a mark of great wisdom to be able to resist temptation; yet, perhaps, this once, you don't need to?"

"Hmm…" Iroh made a show of stroking his beard. "Wisdom or tea – which is greater? A true conundrum for the sagest of sages. I must ponder this some more."

With such companionable feelings, they made their way to the tea shop. The first bite of pastry filled his mouth with an almost overwhelming tastiness; the first sip of tea was utter joy. They still couldn't eat much, after their ordeal (and maybe that was no bad thing, Iroh thought after he reacquainted himself with the prices here). Zuko pushed his still mostly-full cup over to Iroh's side of the table, and at Iroh's suggestion, went to see if the owner would be willing to sell them some tea leaves. Iroh could tell they used high quality leaves here, though the brewing skill fell a little short. He knew he could do a much better job, once they acquired a teapot and a room with a fireplace.

This particular necessity taken care of, they went around to bespeak a room. Iroh lay down for a much-needed nap, but Zuko swore he didn't need one. By the time Iroh woke up again, Zuko had already sent the messenger hawk, sold their former clothes (though he left Iroh's chest armor for now), and bought some new ones (truly ugly and coarse-textured – did Zuko have no taste at all? At least, while they were here, they could wear the robes graciously provided to all guests). He also bought a teapot and a couple of cups, some simple, long-lasting food (Iroh resolved that they wouldn't touch it while they stayed at the resort, so as not to insult the amazing cooks they had here), two journey packs, and extra blankets. After all that exertion, he still seemed restless, and all the amenities the resort could provide didn't seem to help him calm down.

The next day passed quietly; Iroh put his foot down that today, they would worry about nothing and do nothing but relax. He himself followed this course with great pleasure; Zuko seemed indifferent about it, which was probably as good as Iroh could hope for.

The day after was worse. Iroh still enjoyed himself, but Zuko started insisting that they should go to the market for the rest of the supplies they would need. Iroh finally agreed, if only because he thought it might ease some of that bad mood. He was proven wrong before they even set out; Zuko came to wait for him about ten minutes before his massage was done, and by the slumped pose and that hat – Zuko almost never wore anything that would cover the scar – Iroh finally realized it went deeper than that.

As it turned out, Zuko had paid more attention to the date than Iroh had. It was the third anniversary of his banishment. What a day to mark; not that he could blame Zuko for being unable to forget it. "I want it back," Zuko said. Iroh had heard the list of the things Zuko wanted before, with minor variations, but the ending was new. "I want my father not to think I'm worthless."

In three years, Zuko had never put it quite so starkly, and that worried Iroh. "I'm sure he doesn't!" he quickly interrupted that train of thought before it could go further. "Why would he banish you if he didn't care?"

Zuko got up and walked away without a single reminder about the market. That had really come out wrong, even if he had meant what he said. Three years together had taught Iroh that Zuko had a great deal of inner strength, even though it was habitually shrouded by self-doubt and anger. Ozai would not have been able to ignore that; in fact, Iroh suspected that Ozai had a hand in why Zuko didn't know his own strength. Why Ozai had chosen to try to break it rather than cultivate it, Iroh didn't know; Ozai had always been a bit of a fool that way.

Iroh sighed and followed Zuko out. Some time passed with them sitting together in silence outside, soaking up the gentle warmth of the spring sun. They went to the market, where they got some good bargains, and Zuko barely tried to argue him out of any purchases. That wasn't a good sign, either; it had a much more dampening effect on his desire to shop than anything Zuko could have said aloud. The evening passed quietly, with Zuko attempting to meditate. Iroh left him to it while he walked along the shore, enjoying the peace and quiet and collecting wonderful shells. When he returned, Zuko was already lying in bed, but he was obviously not asleep. Iroh fell asleep without having seen his nephew relax even the slightest bit.

He woke in the night, unsure of what had startled him. He had a sense of foreboding, like a storm was about to break, though the sky was clear.

The next day, Zuko was at least not so quiet. Iroh went back to the seashore for more shells, and by the time he returned, Zuko was yelling at him again about collecting "useless things." What had his life become, that he could feel content with being yelled at? He didn't have time to ponder. When he turned around, Azula was there.

To put it mildly, it was not a pleasant meeting. Iroh had a truly bad feeling about how she had been able to come so quickly. The Fire Navy would have received their message by now, yes, but even the swiftest messenger hawk would only now be arriving at the palace. She had been nearby – a fourteen-year-old girl, the darling of her father's eye. What could she have been doing in these northern waters?

When she spoke about Ozai's "regret," Iroh wondered for a moment if she were actually sincere. For a moment, it seemed she wasn't completely able to hide her displeasure at no longer being, in essence, the only child in the family. Azula had always been an accomplished liar, however, Iroh reminded himself, and she probably only got better in the three years which had passed since he'd last seen her. That hadn't been an auspicious moment. Whatever ideas he had before about her ability to feel shame evaporated when he saw her taunting Zuko while he lay in the infirmary after that appalling Agni Kai. Iroh had picked her up and put her outside the door, then. Something told him she would not be so easy to get rid of now.

She did indeed leave on her own terms, after having confounded Zuko into near-incoherence with her promises of a safe return home and a welcoming father at the end of the journey. The offer to come back tomorrow sounded like a threat to Iroh, but Zuko was beyond hearing any subtleties. As Zuko continued to grip the windowsill, Iroh almost dared hope that Zuko would see through the lies. Almost, but not quite.

Close to twenty minutes had passed before Zuko finally turned around. He wandered over to the table with shells and brushed his fingers over them gently, as if he didn't have anything to hold on to in this world. Then he suddenly exploded into a flurry of activity and started packing. Iroh sat heavily at the table, unable to look.

Zuko must have picked up on something being wrong, because his cheerful voice sounded behind Iroh. "We're going home. After three long years! It's unbelievable."

"We," Iroh noted. Not "I," despite how badly Zuko had longed to return. Zuko thought this was a treat for both of them. He hadn't heard the disrespectful way Azula spoke to Iroh at all.

For once, he spoke his direct thoughts. "It _is_ unbelievable. I have never known my brother to regret anything."

"Did you listen to Azula?" Zuko asked with surprise. _Better than you have,_ Iroh thought. "Father's realized how important family is to him. He cares about me."

Even Azula, in baiting her trap, had not intimated that Ozai had suddenly grown to care for Zuko. This was too much for Iroh. "_I_ care about you!" he snapped. _Where was your father, Prince Zuko, all these years? Who has been through everything with you? We saved each other's lives several times, and we saved each other's sanity even more often._ Yet he could not deny that Zuko's fierce loyalty and love, however foolishly given, was one of the things he treasured most in his nephew. Knowing this, it had been impossible to tell him "your father doesn't love you back" all those years, and he still couldn't say it. The only thing that came out was, "And if Ozai wants you back…" _stupid, idiotic, he has such a son and doesn't even know it, how could he not want this wonderful boy?_ "well, I think it may not be for the reasons you imagine."

Zuko turned away, clearly not wanting to hear it. "You don't know how my father feels about me. You don't know anything."

One last attempt to break it to him gently. "Zuko, I only meant that in our family, things are not always what they seem."

Zuko instantly whirled around, getting into Iroh's face, his eyes wide like those of a spooked ostrich-horse. His tone turned belligerent and nasty. "I think you are exactly what you seem: a lazy, mistrustful, shallow old man who has always been jealous of his brother." And he walked away.

Iroh closed his eyes. No tears came, but he was hurt down to the heart. What had it all been for, if Zuko could fling such accusations at him after everything that happened? _He doesn't mean it; he's just all worked up,_ Iroh reminded himself, as he often had in the past. It was Zuko's way – he'd say things he didn't mean in the heat of anger, and then apologize. He truly regretted it later, always, Iroh would stake his life on that. It had been sweet, receiving those apologies. He could remember a lot of them; in word, in deed, in quietly not arguing against his uncle's schemes when he clearly wanted to, in that inexpertly carved and painted lotus tile that he'd made for his uncle after throwing the real thing in the river. Iroh had mourned few of the things he lost in the ship's explosion, but that tile was one of them.

Only now did he realize that, however much he'd enjoyed the apologies, he had often been angry at Zuko's behavior which led to the apologies. He was angry now; he could no longer deny it. Zuko didn't mean it, but he still said it. Iroh had thought before that getting angry at a child was the height of foolishness, and he still believed it. Yet he was angry.

He sat back down. His breathing slowed; he wasn't quite meditating, but it was his way to think things through.

_Zuko doesn't deserve this anger, _he thought, but a new thought came. _Yes, he does. He acted badly. He won't always have me to explain his behavior to people. I don't even want to keep explaining it. How will he ever learn to control these explosions if I never say anything to him about it?_

What would Zuko learn from anger, though? He already had tasted it in full. Iroh didn't want to be like his younger brother. He would never lash out at Zuko, no matter what.

Who was he to judge Zuko? It had taken him twenty-five years before he understood the love of family. Zuko already had good instincts for it, even if they remained somewhat misdirected. It had taken Iroh fifty years to even begin to question the wrongs his country had inflicted upon the world, and six more to learn to put aside the pride that everyone, from his childhood, had insisted was only appropriate to the Crown Prince. Zuko was only sixteen.

Truly, he understood how grief could make one forget kindness. The loss of his only son had devastated him utterly, and for two years, he had not cared about anything but getting to the Spirit World. He was ashamed to say that he could no longer recall what exactly he had done to force his way there. It could not have been good, because he had cared about nobody and nothing, then, as intent on his goal as Zuko now was on his. Iroh had been worse than Zuko, in fact, because when it came down to it, Zuko would turn aside from his quest to help those he cared for. The lessons taught in the Spirit World had been bitter, but necessary. Even after that, he had such difficulty interacting with the real world. He had returned to the palace, not because he wanted to, but because he had nowhere else to go.

There, he had met again his nephew and niece. At first, he favored Azula – she had been attentive in her way and able to cheer him up when nothing else could. It was Zuko, however, as lost inside a shell in his own way as Iroh, who had made him heal, and who had blossomed with his attention as well. They saved each other even then. Iroh would never forget – would always carry with him – the joy of seeing an unguarded smile on Zuko's unscarred face. It might never come again, but he would remember.

Anger could not withstand the weight of those reminiscences, but Iroh knew he had almost grasped something important, and that to let it go as usual would not end well. He had been angry because… because Zuko hurt him. Because Zuko had the power to hurt him worse than anyone else living, and didn't even care. Because Zuko still hadn't learned what should have been obvious from the first.

It did no good to think that he had learned far more slowly than Zuko. He had had no one to guide him, not until the dragons and then the Spirit World, and neither of those teachers had remained when he left their world. Zuko had – him. He would always have Iroh, if he didn't throw him away like a broken sandal first.

_Maybe I'm not as good a teacher as I thought._

On that depressing thought, Zuko finally came back inside. His shoulders were hunched now, and his glance towards Iroh was timid and questioning. It was obviously apology time.

He hadn't missed his guess. "Here, Uncle," Zuko said as he placed what looked like all their remaining money on the table. "I don't need it anymore, and I… you… you should be happy. You should never have been on that ship with me in the first place, after everything you've done in your life; you earned so much more than a little metal room and bad cooking. As soon as I get home, I'll send you more money. You could stay here as long as you liked, and just… enjoy yourself, and collect all the trinkets you want." The last sentence came out a bit like a question; Zuko was obviously unnerved by Iroh's continued silence.

Iroh took a minute before speaking. "You really do think I'm lazy and shallow, don't you?"

Zuko flinched. "No, Uncle! I'm sorry I spoke that way – I was wrong to say those things –"

"You still meant them, didn't you," he said flatly.

His nephew's gaze became cast downward. "I didn't…" he mumbled.

"I want you to speak the truth," Iroh ordered levelly.

Zuko was quiet for a few seconds, sorting through his thoughts for once. "I… maybe. Just for a second. I got so angry… it's not how I think of you, I swear." He gave Iroh a brief, pleading look.

Ordinarily, Iroh would have already forgiven him by this point, but now he was genuinely curious. "So you believe one thing about me when you're angry and another when you're not?" It did make sense, in a way.

"That's not it," Zuko said, his tone a mixture of protest and thought. "No, you're right, that's not it."

"Then what is?" Iroh prompted gently.

"I – I guess I don't really understand you," Zuko admitted. "You confuse me a lot."

"Wisdom –"

" – grows that way, yes, I know," Zuko answered impatiently. "Maybe I'm just not – cut out for wisdom."

"You're young yet. It will come."

Zuko made a vague noise that could pass for agreement. "Well, there are a lot of possible explanations to choose from. Including why you… would say that to me. I was angry, so I went with the worst possible interpretations, but I know they're not the right ones now. Even if I still don't understand."

"Hmm," Iroh stroked his beard. Too many thoughts flew through his mind to pick just one reply.

"Anyway, I do know one thing. You've always been the happiest when you could do what you wanted, whenever you wanted. I don't know why you love those trinkets, but you do. You should always have had that. I don't know why you came with me, but I'm not going to interfere with the life you should have had any longer."

Iroh heard the love and concern in his nephew's words, but they were difficult to digest, since they contained the proof of his failure. "You really don't know," he marveled. Maybe he really should stay here for the rest of his life. Live quietly, forget all his failures. Maybe Ozai really did mean to welcome Zuko home. If he didn't, well, Iroh could obviously do nothing more to warn the boy in front of him.

"Uncle?" Zuko asked nervously.

Iroh shook his head. "There's not much I can say to you, when so often, you don't listen."

Zuko flinched back and swallowed audibly. After a while, he squared his shoulders, hiding his obvious grief, and started to pack again, quietly.

"Zuko, it's dark out. Just wait until morning, all right? Sleep on it. Azula is not going to leave yet, anyway." Iroh knew he would go with Zuko, after all. He just wanted to put that moment off as long as he could.

Zuko's shoulders hunched again. "All right, Uncle," he said in a small voice.

It changed nothing, really, but Iroh lay awake for a while listening to his nephew breathe.

In the morning, Zuko finished packing. When he was done, he came to stand in front of Iroh, waiting patiently for Iroh to look up. He looked nervous but determined, standing there, and Iroh realized that, even if he hadn't taught Zuko how not to make mistakes, he'd at least successfully taught him to face up to his mistakes.

"I'll miss you, Uncle," Zuko said simply. "I wish you would come home with me, but if you don't want to, I want you to be happy."

Iroh hugged him for a solid ten minutes, tears in his eyes. He knew then that he would never stay back and relax into a simple life, not so long as Zuko needed him. Zuko wanted him to be happy? His foolish nephew really didn't understand. Happiness for Iroh had long become a matter of family. Today, happiness meant all those little moments when he could see Zuko growing into the beautiful prince he would one day become.

For once, Zuko clung to him instead of pulling back. Eventually, though, they had to release each other. Zuko picked up his small pack and headed out the door. He hadn't even realized that Iroh was coming with him.

Iroh tore around the room throwing everything pell-mell into a sack. He was afraid the ship would leave without him every second. But when he ran out the door, yelling for Zuko to wait up, his nephew wasn't even halfway down the staircase. He obviously hadn't run; his steps had been slower than that. Maybe Zuko did understand, in a way.

The smile on Zuko's face as he turned around was one Iroh hadn't seen in three years. Open, happy, uncomplicated… for home? "Uncle! You've changed your mind!" he cried, and Iroh knew it was for him, even if it was the false promise of home that made it possible for Zuko to smile so widely again.

They descended to the harbor together. Iroh kept a sharp lookout. How had he ever considered letting Zuko go alone? It was obviously a trap; the only thing he didn't know was when it would be sprung. Zuko would have backup when that happened.

There were two columns of firebenders lining the dock – rather many for a simple welcome-home. Azula waited at the top of the gangplank, her smile not quite right. Yet her words were pitch-perfect; when she said "set our course for home, Captain," Zuko echoed, "home," with longing in his voice right on cue. No incident occurred to mar the occasion for Zuko (he probably didn't even notice the firebenders closing off their escape route, or if he did, just considered it ceremonial), and they were received aboard in state. Azula personally conducted them to a pair of well-appointed rooms. Iroh knew, however, that they still had a long way to go.


	10. Definition of Treachery

**A/N: ** Chapter Nine has now been revised to address some of the concerns brought up by my wonderfully watchful reviewers, Gidon and Kimberly T. Thanks for being so willing to point out the weaknesses of this story – I really appreciate it! I couldn't delete Zuko's bout of fever, or make Iroh talk more, as those are actually plot points for later, but a couple of sentences have been added regarding those things. I also changed a sentence at the end, to make the deviation from canon clearer.

As for the greater concern, that their survival was unrealistic – apologies for that. I had thought that I was already giving them more than Iroh's comment about "floating on a piece of driftwood for three weeks with no food or water" implied, and that ordinary humans have been known to perform some similar feats of survival, but on reviewing it, I changed that part (made it clearer that the current was relatively warm, changed the need to float for hours in the water, and added stimulants to Zuko's kit).

**Chapter 10**

Their first day at sea heading home, Zuko didn't show himself much, despite Azula prodding him to join her for dinner to catch up. It wasn't because he didn't want to. On the contrary, he wanted it very much. He just wasn't sure what kind of idiocy would leave his mouth. Only the day before, he had been bracing himself for more years of wandering. It had never been an easy process; on the third anniversary of his banishment, when he had actually had the Avatar in his grasp and lost him, it had been downright excruciating. He'd forced himself through the pain; he had no other choice. Then suddenly, all that fell away. The search, the need to prove himself, the recounting of all his faults – gone. Just like that. _Father wants me home._

He'd seen a swirling vortex, the color of dust, appear over the tops of the mountains for a moment when the ship had been pulling out of harbor. The similarity to the vortex of water the Avatar had produced during his first escape was unmistakable. For a moment, he had almost called out to one of the men to turn the ship towards the vortex out of habit. It wasn't his task anymore, however, and the relief was unbelievable. Dad just wanted him home, and Zuko knew where the Avatar was headed. Dad would let him come home without the Avatar, and he'd let others capture the annoying, dangerous boy.

In person, he also had some hope of successfully arguing for the ransoms of all the soldiers captured at the North Pole, not just the more important ones. He'd already made the suggestion by hawk, but he couldn't fit in much of a message due to their temporarily limited means. The ransoms would take money, yes, but they must have lost a lot of people; they couldn't afford to lose more. Father would say that they could always recruit some more, but Zuko had seen the effects of putting barely-trained sailors on a ship, so he thought he would have some strong arguments to present. Just the thought that he might talk to his father face-to-face, man-to-man, was something he almost didn't dare hope for.

Azula came down to his quarters after dinner for a chat, anyway. She was surprisingly nice for once, asking him about the past three years with genuine interest, and making some sensible suggestions about what he could have done better. The talk didn't last long. Even with his head all in a whirl, long experience had taught him not to let his guard down around Azula. She was sure to poke and prod at all the sorest spots. Her prodigious talent in firebending was almost pedestrian compared to her talent at finding those spots. She loved him, he knew, just like he loved her despite everything. They were brother and sister. It wasn't Azula's fault that she was a prodigy and he wasn't. It really wasn't surprising that her love often expressed itself as pity. When he'd been younger, he often thought it was worth giving in to her desire to protect him, rather than the other way around. After three years away, however, he found it more irritating than usual, and the exertion of talking made him tired.

Thus, he stayed in the luxurious cabin assigned to him, and did his best to meditate. There was no shortage of candles, here, but he found it difficult to concentrate, anyway. At last, he gave it up as a bad job, and went across the hallway to visit Uncle. Some muddy proverbs might help.

A soldier was in the hallway, who instantly asked Zuko if he could serve him in any way. Zuko shook his head and knocked on his uncle's door. After a brief hesitation, a familiar voice bade him enter.

Uncle's room was just as well appointed as his own, but where was Uncle? Ah, there, beside the door. In the blind spot. Who had he been expecting, anyway? They were headed home; there was no need for such caution, here.

They talked for a while, but the conversation stayed light. Zuko had somehow expected something… different. What, he wasn't sure.

A soldier was in the hallway when he went to his room. It was the same one, Zuko was sure. Faint alarm bells began to ring in his mind. He ignored them as long as he could. Azula was just being thorough with her hospitality. The soldier was there to see to their every need. There was just one of him, too, and nobody would expect that to be enough to fight the Dragon of the West. Except… if he was on duty as a servant, then why was he wearing full armor?

Zuko paced around for a bit before sticking his head out the door. The soldier was still there, ostensibly patrolling the hallway. Nothing strange about that, really. "Hey," he called. Fast reflexes on that one. "Would it be possible to have dinner brought to me here?"

The soldier bowed low. "Certainly, Your Highness." Zuko closed the door, counting the faint footsteps in his head. They stopped at the nearest intersection with a murmur of voices, then the footsteps came back. That was wrong. A soldier thrust into the role of a servant would have gone himself, or would at least have taken longer to find someone who was not busy enough to help with the errand. So who had he spoken to, there at the intersection? How many? The thick metal walls prevented him from using his heat-sense to count.

It was paranoid, that's what it was. He'd been jumping at shadows for so long he'd learned to see them everywhere. It could always be coincidence.

The dinner arrived quickly, delivered by the self-same soldier. The selection was lavish; Uncle would have done it justice. Zuko just chewed slowly, trying to convince himself that he wasn't worried. When he was done eating, the tray was whisked away in the same efficient manner, and again, the soldier didn't go past the first intersection.

All those efforts to calm down finally brought him to the bundle of belongings lying on the floor. He hadn't even bothered to unpack, yet; it wasn't like he wanted for anything, here. Except peace of mind, and the lack of same was probably his fault, anyway. Zuko reached inside folded layers of cloth. Uncle was not the only one who sometimes couldn't resist buying junk. All right, so Zuko had limited himself to one thing, but he really had been a hypocrite there. When his hand emerged, it held a familiar blue-and-white mask.

Zuko changed into his drab Earth Kingdom clothes quickly and quietly. The disguise probably wouldn't fool Azula, but so long as he didn't run into her, it should do. Not that he planned to be seen, of course. It was second nature to blow out the lantern and lie down in bed noisily. After about fifteen minutes, when the footsteps were at the furthest distance, he rose silently and tugged the bedclothes into a semblance of a sleeping shape. The hallway was patrolled, so he wasn't going to use the hallway. The mask slipped on, completing the transformation.

All right, he ordered himself, think. If Azula were hiding something, she'd be hiding it from her brother Zuko. The Blue Spirit, on the other hand, had skills that Zuko had never shown. The window here was of the same narrow-and-long kind as on his former ship. Not wide enough for a grown man, especially with armor on, but just wide enough for a teenager who had trained himself to slip through small spaces. Silently, he blessed again Ty Lee's generous attempts to teach him. He had been a poor student at the time, but later, aboard the ship, he couldn't have trained himself half so well without that background. They might be watching the window, of course, but it was dark inside the room while the deck was lit, creating difficult conditions for them. After approaching the window from the side, he peered carefully around the edge.

The situation wasn't bad at all. His room faced towards the stern. There was no place for an observer to hide on the twin smokestacks, and the pagoda-shaped design of the ship's tower meant that the roofs themselves would do most of the work in hiding him from the men and women on deck. The only problem was that he wanted to climb up to the navigation deck, as the place most likely to contain gossipy, high-ranked soldiers (i.e., those most likely to have been told something), and those same roofs created obstacles. He also couldn't see how many of the windows above him were lit before he peered over a roof's edge.

Still, he'd faced worse. Little by little, he crawled his way upwards, going still at every suspicious bit of movement below. He could definitely tell he'd gone a month without training, but his body was actually a bit better than before at hanging on. Also, either he'd gotten better at using his heat-sense, or perhaps the circumstances sharpened it, but he could roughly tell where the lit windows were, by the warmth. He only made one mistake, with a room that must have been too recently occupied to warm up, and fortunately, he'd been cautious enough to catch himself before it turned into a bad mistake.

Later, he made his way downwards with his whole body shaking. "I can't believe that General Iroh is a traitor," rang in his ears, as well as the other officer's reply, "It'll all come out at the trial." Uncle – they thought Uncle was a traitor? Somebody must have lied fit to blacken the soul; Zuko could even guess why. The failed invasion of the North Pole – careers would be made and broken based on actions taken there. Some coward, who had had a month to plant evidence against Uncle (who didn't suspect because Zuko had been so sure they would both be welcomed home), had seized the opportunity. The trial would catch Uncle unprepared. Dad would try to be fair to his brother, of course, but who knew what evidence had been cooked up?

Zuko knew he had failed badly again. He got Uncle into this. He was going to get him out. Traitors were brought before the court in chains – and usually executed, if their guilt was proven. When would the formal charges be brought? When they touched shore? Earlier? Uncle had to leave, now, while he was still free.

The question was, how? There couldn't be just one guard. How many were ready at the intersections? If it came to a fight, Uncle could take on twenty men; Zuko had seen him in action. But they could have poison, ropes, traps… and two people couldn't crew a ship of this size. No, Zuko would help him take one of the small boats – that might work. And before he left, Zuko would need to stop the ship somehow. It would do Uncle no good to escape, only to be caught moments later by the swift ship.

Zuko swallowed. The engine room would be the most heavily guarded point. Did he dare risk it? Was there another way?

He looked around frantically. Those smokestacks… what would happen if something should block them? The pressure would build, and the stacks would explode. Would the blast only snap off the part above deck, or would some of its force be directed downwards, to the engines themselves? It might, just might, work. Only, how could he time the blast to give Uncle enough time to get clear? Once the explosion happened, everyone would be on high alert.

Zuko tried to visualize the ship's likely schematics in his head. The engine room would be concealed within the most sturdy section. If only it touched the hull somewhere, Zuko might be able to cut through the metal with fire… the water intake turbines! The boilers were cooled with water drawn straight up from the sea below. Do something to that, and the heat would build up.

The catapults, though – it would be a good idea to disable them, too. Hadn't the Avatar done a lot of that, the first day of the invasion? Only vague rumors had filtered down to Zuko. Catapults, engines, boat – he still hadn't even let Uncle know any of this… Zuko clutched his head. One thing at a time. They'd make it, even if he had to go through Azula herself to do it.

Azula must have known of these accusations against Uncle, and didn't say a word. She'd lied to him. He should have remembered how much she lied.

Right, resources. The element of surprise on his side. A cover identity that might spook some of the more impressionable soldiers. Fragments of a conversation between the Water Tribe siblings as they'd flown aboard Appa drifted through his mind. They'd been laughing about some prank they hadn't even witnessed – somebody who put an octopus on his head and pretended to be a water spirit, complete with spooky voice. Sokka and Katara had competed to see who could produce the spookiest voice, with an honorary contribution by Aang at the most effective moment, and the results had left them in tears of laughter. Zuko found himself smiling involuntarily, both at the memory, and at the idea it gave him, before he forced himself to stop. The Avatar was not worth smiling about.

First, however, he needed to let Uncle in on the plan. Fortunately, he was very close to Uncle's room at the moment. He climbed around the side very carefully – this was a more exposed location. Uncle's window was dark, and he could hear the sounds of snoring from inside, but Uncle would wake instantly at an intrusion through the window and might blast the intruder into ashes before realizing who it was.

He pulled off the mask for the moment and stuffed it into the back of his waistband, beneath the cloak. Very lightly, he began to rap out the rhythm of one of Uncle's favorite songs on the window with his knuckles. It had the desired effect within moments. The window opened just slightly, as if to let in some fresh air. Zuko pressed his face to the crack and whispered, "Uncle, it's me. You're in danger – they think you're a traitor. We have to get you out of here. Guards are outside in the hallway; I don't know how many."

The faint sound of a chuckle reached him. "Well, I'm not going to fit through this window, so it'll have to be the hallway. I don't think the guards will be expecting much from a sleepy old man. I can surprise them."

"Are you sure?" Zuko whispered back. "Do you think you could make your way down to the cargo hold? I'm going to work on getting as many obstacles as possible out of the way, but it'll still be dangerous. I can come back for you if you prefer."

"Nephew, worry less about your old uncle and more about the poor people who won't know what hit them."

Zuko bit back a snicker. "They're all clearly outmatched," he agreed happily. "Give me an hour, then go."

"An hour? What are you up to?"

"Making sure they can't pursue you. Don't worry, I have a plan." Inspiration struck. "Actually, can you give me some of your sea shells?"

The window snicked open a bit wider, and Uncle passed what felt like the entire bag-full to him. "You're not going to get them back," Zuko warned.

"Then I will have the joy of finding others whenever I'm next at the beach. An hour, then. Good luck."

"To you, too."

The window closed, and Zuko crawled carefully down to the lowest roof, then hid himself at the upcurve of the corner. He pulled the mask back on. Eight soldiers were visible on guard below – rather many for what should have been a quiet night-watch. Time to let the spirits do their work.

A plop sounded from the starboard side, where Zuko had thrown the first sea shell. The soldiers started and looked around, then relaxed slowly. At the moment where they would be ready to dismiss it as nothing, Zuko threw the second shell, to port this time. The plops began to speed up, and the soldiers were clearly uneasy now, unable to tell what was happening. Zuko used a curled shell like a horn; it gave off a low humming, just faint at first, then getting louder. The last few shells went into the water like a drumbeat, and the humming abruptly stopped. The mask popped over the edge of the roof, and there was a definite squeak from below as one of the soldiers spotted it, pointing it out frantically to the rest. They all turned to stare, some of them with firebending stances at the ready. Zuko held absolutely still, letting the Blue Spirit's grin do his work for him. At the right moment, he breathed the smallest amount of fire he could. It lit the mask up from the inside in an inhuman manner. The men's courage broke, and six of them fled immediately below deck.

Still glowing, although the fire was beginning to scorch the inside of the mask and would soon scorch his face along with it, Zuko jumped down from the roof. For someone unused to the tricks of acrobats, it would seem an inhumanly soft landing. The two remaining men followed the others rather than face whatever it was coming at them.

With the deck cleared for the moment, Zuko extinguished the fire and went to work as quickly as possible. With no time for anything fancy, he just torched the faint outlines of the hatches on deck, melting the metal. With any luck, no one would check to see whether the hatches could still open before they gave the order to raise the catapults, which would lead to the catapults smashing themselves to pieces. If his luck were as bad as usual, well, at least it would give Uncle a little more time to get away while the soldiers worked on unsealing the hatches. With so many firebenders aboard, the first few minutes would be the most critical, anyway.

Six. Six catapults. Azula travelled in style.

Anyway, that didn't matter. After hiding the mask inside his clothing again, Zuko bound up his hair into its usual ponytail, and stepped below deck. His clothes – couldn't be helped. He could always pretend it was an odd sort of sleepwear. He strode through the halls as if he owned the ship, and turned an unfriendly eye on the first soldier he saw.

"You! What's the meaning of this commotion?"

The man must have been one of the firebenders on guard at the deck. With his helmet off, he looked scared half to death. "Nothing, your highness."

"Then why aren't you at your post?" Zuko barked.

"I – I – toilet?"

"Toilet? All of you at the same time? Cards, more likely. Get back to work and I won't report this dereliction of duty, and let all your friends know the same goes for them."

Zuko maintained an expression of righteous fury as he watched the man make his calculations. Go out on the deck to face spirit monsters, or face the wrath of the royal family. It was no contest. The man snapped off a salute. "Thank you, your highness."

"Next time, you won't get the same chance," Zuko threatened. The man retreated quickly, off to fetch the rest of the guards. If Zuko had done this right, the man would not have had enough time to think about whether Zuko actually had the authority to give orders around here. By the time the thought occurred to him, Zuko would already be in the cargo hold.

The man on guard at the door to the cargo hold was harder to shake. His salute was respectful, but he was clearly drawing conclusions that the prince should not have been wandering around like that in the middle of the night. Zuko didn't give him a chance to say anything, however. "As you can see," he snarled and gestured downwards at himself, "I've been forced to wear these filthy peasant clothes. Azula said there should be some proper clothes in here."

"I don't know where anything is," the soldier stalled. "I'll get the quartermaster for you; all requests have to go through him, anyway."

"Requests? This is an order!" Zuko yelled in a show of rage. "Stand aside!"

"I have orders from the princess," the guard replied quietly and firmly. "I cannot abandon my duty without a direct counter-order from her."

He had to find one of the smarter ones in his way sometime. "Fine!" Zuko huffed. "I'll go and get her right now. She won't like being woken, but on your head be it. What's your name?"

The soldier still didn't budge. "As you wish, your highness. My name is Toru."

Toru. As frustrating as it was to have him as an obstacle, the Navy needed more men like him. Zuko made a mental note that, if ever he had the chance, he would follow Toru's career with interest. For now, he made a show of stomping away. Toru was not the kind of man who would abandon his post for a distraction, either, and he'd call for reinforcements at the first sign of something wrong. The tactics that worked so well at Pohuai Stronghold would be useless here – all but one, perhaps. Zuko made as if to turn at the intersection. The movement concealed the way he slipped his dagger out. As he completed the half-turn, he threw the knife. It spun end over end, and the hilt struck Toru on the head. It only dazed him (Zuko didn't know whether to be frustrated or relieved at that), and he was already gathering breath to yell a second later, but that second proved enough. Zuko threw himself forward and covered the man's mouth. A brief but fierce struggle followed. Zuko had the advantage of the upper hand and his agility; Toru had strength and years of experience. It was a fight Zuko wasn't sure he could win. Before his opponent could tire him out too badly, Zuko switched tactics.

"So," he hissed, "are you one of the ones so very certain that General Iroh is a traitor?"

The unexpectedness of the question clearly gave Toru pause, though he didn't stop struggling. Zuko went with his impressions of the man – loyalty and honor were not mere words to him. As he continued to pin the flailing limbs with his knees, he asked, "Hasn't he proven himself in every way? How can anyone doubt his devotion to our country? How can _you_ doubt it?"

No question, Toru was troubled by this. He still struggled, but not as fiercely as before.

"After years of risking his own life in battle, now they want to put him on trial? After he lost everything, including his own son, in service to our nation? Now they would shame him by putting his word even with the words of whatever coward thought up this monstrous lie? We all ought to beg his forgiveness for even thinking it. You know it. Don't deny it."

Zuko weakened his grip over the man's mouth, ready to clamp down at the first sign of a scream. It wasn't necessary. "I know it," came a whisper from Toru. "I know men and women who served with the General. Yet if the highest are not accountable, as the lowest are, then corruption will inevitably set in. General Iroh should not be on trial, but others of his rank…" He didn't complete the thought, his discipline preventing him from slandering his superiors.

The words gave Zuko pause. He had to nod. "Yes. But if they are putting _him_ on trial, rather than the others, then corruption has already set in."

They stared at each other for a moment in silence, neither willing to give up on their principles. Zuko was the first to recover – it was his uncle's life on the line. With a burst of motion, he yanked Toru's chest armor upward, trapping his arms. What he wouldn't give for some good rope… the exposed fabric of Toru's shirt would have to do. He ripped off strips of it one handed, and managed, not without a great deal more struggle, to bind and gag the man. It'd hold long enough for him to find something better, or…

"I won't ask you to stop doing your duty, but there is another, greater duty here. A headstart for General Iroh. That's all I ask," he whispered.

After a long pause, Toru nodded.

Zuko stepped back, then leaned forward again. He wouldn't do this to an honorable man without warning. "Sorry. It'll be just for show. I won't harm you, I swear."

Toru gave him a cautious glance, then inhaled as Zuko took a firebending stance. Zuko called upon all he had learned of control, and sent the fireball. It scorched Toru's armor and singed off a part of his beard, but left him with nothing worse than a mild bit of sunburn on his newly exposed chin. Toru looked at him for a moment with an indecipherable expression, then closed his eyes peacefully. Zuko took his keys, retrieved the dagger, and stepped through into the cargo hold. The boats would be kept at the back. How much time had passed? He had to move quickly.

There were ten boats, rather than the two Zuko was used to. And a great deal of other war machinery. The newest, too. It gleamed even in the dim lighting of the cargo hold. Zuko closed his eyes. No point in thinking of three years aboard an elderly little ship that kept breaking down even when it wasn't under attack as easy prey. He'd always had to struggle; it made him strong. There was no time for envy. He had to disable all but one of the boats.

He worked his way forward methodically. Hop inside, wrench off the plating over the controls, melt everything down with a fireblast, hop out. About three minutes per boat. Nine boats. He was cutting it too close. Uncle must be on his way now, and Zuko still hadn't done anything about the engines.

The sound of distant fireblasts announced that they were really out of time. Zuko finished with the last boat and ran for the stairs to the upper deck.

Uncle was there, tossing his opponents around like ninepins. A true firebending master at work. There was no time to study it, though. With a blast of blue lighting, Azula had arrived. Zuko saw red, and charged. He didn't care in that moment that she had always been the better fighter. "You lied to me!" he screamed. "How could you do that to Uncle?"

"Oh, like I've never lied to you before," she smirked. Her tone was one of mildly amused boredom. She even made a show of glancing at her fingernails, for effect.

He threw fire at her. She evaded; he pursued her with everything he had.

"Zuko! Let's go!" a familiar voice cried from a distance, but Zuko was too busy to listen. Two soldiers leapt between him and Azula. He swatted them aside with two simultaneous fireblasts, but Azula kept twisting away from his every attack. All of a sudden, his arm was twisted up behind his back, and Azula's breath sounded in his ear, slow and calm. His own came in bursts.

"You know, Father blames Uncle for the loss at the North Pole. And he considers you a miserable failure for not finding the Avatar." A beat. "Why would he want you back home, except to lock you up where you can no longer embarrass him?"

She was lying. Azula always lied. But he still had to get away from her and get Uncle to safety. For the first time, he considered going with Uncle. Arriving home together with Azula would obviously do him no favors. She could twist everything…

Like a cat toying with its prey, she let his arm go. With fire daggers in his clenched fists, he attacked her again.

He couldn't win, but he refused to lose without a fight. He went down once from a kick; a second time while dodging a ball of lightning. His vision was getting fuzzy; he shook it off. When at last he saw Azula clearly again, lightning was already gathering around her hands as she aimed at him. He prepared to roll…

Suddenly, Uncle was there, and the lightning discharged harmlessly into the water. With a chi-enhanced kick, Uncle sent Azula sailing after it. More soldiers were coming however, alerted by the sounds of fighting. Someone gave the order to stop the ship so that they could retrieve their princess. All-hands-on-deck sounded. From the side of the ship, a familiar voice cried, "Catch them, you idiots!" Them, not just Uncle. Azula wouldn't forgive this easily.

Zuko accepted the hand Uncle offered and staggered to his feet. The smokestack filled his addled vision. Maybe there was something to be said for three years aboard an old ship – he knew all the ways it could break down. Two years ago, the soot inside their smokestack had caught fire. This new ship couldn't have accumulated much soot, but it was worth a try. Zuko ducked behind his uncle for a moment and focused his heat-sense like never before. The smokestacks were quite warm, especially at the base. They could be warmer. Fire always wanted to burn. He gave a _shove_.

The soldiers cried out and coughed as the flames and noxious fumes boiled out, closely followed by a shower of burning soot-smuts. It wasn't actually that dangerous, but they didn't know that. About half of them decided that saving the ship, the only thing between them and the depths of the ocean, had to take priority over chasing two people. The ones who stayed to fight were clearly distracted. He and Uncle, working together, made good headway against the tide. Just a few more steps, and they'd be at the stairway. Soldiers couldn't mob them inside the hallways the way they could on the open deck.

The engines. He'd almost forgotten the most important part. He had to get them disabled before the boat launched.

"Uncle," he made his voice as low as he could in all the noise of the chaos, "the only boat still working is the one on the left side nearest the hatch. Keys," he handed them over. "Can you get it out single-handedly?"

"Yes. What are you up to now?"

"I'm going for a swim. I'll join you as soon as I can."

Uncle actually laughed. "I'm glad to see you're learning to stop and enjoy yourself from time to time."

"This is necessary," he growled, embarrassed.

"Right," Uncle was still smiling, even as he knocked back yet another soldier. "Go."

Zuko wove around the few soldiers still standing at high speed, and dove over the side. He picked the opposite one from Azula's, naturally. With desperate haste, he swam for the water intake openings. They were just two fist-sized holes at the bottom of the hull. It took him longer than he thought to locate them, and he had to resurface for breath before he could actually do anything with them.

The engines were off, but the boilers would still be very hot. Water would be circulating through right now, to cool them off. Zuko pressed his hands to the gratings and concentrated on boiling the water inside the pipes. Firebending didn't work well while surrounded by water and holding his breath, but for once, his ineptitude worked in his favor. He just let his muscles do the work. The water grew painfully warm around him, too, but he ignored that. He had to surface again without accomplishing much, but with every dive, the metal gratings remained hotter and hotter. He started hearing the hissing of steam and frantic footsteps far above him. Again, he forced more heat into the water pipes. At last, there was the shriek of metal peeling back upon itself, an explosion, and a pain-filled scream. Zuko thought a silent apology at whatever engineer just got a faceful of steam, or possibly metal shards. It had to be done.

Near the stern, the little boat bobbed in the water and banged against the hull. Firebenders leaned over the side, pelting it with fireballs. Uncle had a fireshield up over the boat, but how long could he sustain it, even with the hull partially shielding the boat, too? And how would Zuko get aboard?

Somehow, he hadn't lost the mask in all the fighting. Zuko took another deep breath and another dive, then came up slowly from beneath the waves, head tilted up so that the mask would be fully visible, while the rest of him stayed mostly hidden at that angle. He didn't have it in him to glow up the mask while underwater, but apparently, it was impressive enough even so. Two or three of the firebenders flung themselves away from the edge on sight, and whatever explanations they babbled created chaos amongst the rest. Zuko dove down again, removed the mask, and came up between the hull and the boat. A knock on the metal, in the same pattern he'd used earlier, let his uncle know he was coming, and the fire shield flickered out. Zuko instantly flung up one of his own to shield his scramble inside, then collapsed, panting. "Let's go," he managed.

"With great pleasure," Uncle pronounced. The boat shot away from the ship. Very shortly, they were beyond the range of a firebender, and Uncle could let down the fire shield. No catapult shot came, either. They made it. Zuko lay on the floor for a few minutes longer; his muscles felt like jelly. He'd overextended himself today, right enough. It really wasn't a good idea to use anything but breath for firebending. But he was still conscious, and Uncle was safe, so that was all right.

"Zuko, we do have a bedroll," his uncle's voice sounded above him, gentle humor and worry mixed together.

"Right," he answered. "Just give me a minute."

"Very well." Zuko heard Uncle get up and step around him. Was that a faint gasp he heard, when one of his uncle's feet hit the floor? Was that the sound of a metal case snapping open – like the metal case in which emergency supplies were kept, say? Zuko made himself sit up. He wobbled even sitting, but that wasn't just any injury. Uncle's right arm was soaked in blood, and it surely had never bent like that before.

"What happened?!"

Uncle didn't seem concerned as he pulled out fresh bandages, to replace the blood-soaked bits of cloth he'd used before. "I'm afraid the people aboard that ship were sad to see me go before they could hear my tales and share a cup of tea with me. Consequently, they were a bit careless in their attempt to assist me in lowering the boat into the water."

Zuko massaged the bridge of his nose as he translated this bit of Uncle-speak. "You mean they detached the chain from the drum and the boat tumbled down with you inside it, right?"

"I just banged my elbow, as you see," Uncle explained.

"Right," Zuko sighed. And then he'd held off a platoon of soldiers while maintaining a fire shield with one hand, and still steered the boat somehow, and he didn't say a thing to Zuko about it. "Let me help you."

"I can wrap my own elbow," he protested mildly.

"With one hand, yes, I know. Just could you please stop being so difficult for a moment? Just for a little while. Is that so much to ask?"

"How do you define 'difficult,' Prince Zuko?"

"Ignoring the fact that wrapping anything is easier with three arms rather than with one, for starters. Even for the famous General Iroh, the Dragon of the West, the Conqueror of the Fields of Do–"

"There's no need to get nasty," Uncle chided, but his smile showed he didn't mean it.

Zuko called upon his last reserves of energy, and managed to get up without wobbling for the moment. He'd take a stimulant, this wouldn't take long, and then they could both rest. The boat's emergency kit didn't have any painkilling herbs; it had something better. Gum infused with painkilling herbs. No need to brew it; just chew. Its expense made it impractical for any but the most elite of units. Zuko had only heard of it, before. Uncle rolled it around in his mouth thoughtfully. "Hmm. They should add some orange water to these things. It would improve the flavor vastly."

"We'll pass that suggestion along when we can," Zuko replied absently, then shook some stimulant powder onto his tongue and searched for fresh water. None was to be found; apparently, these boats weren't used often enough to be that well stocked. No matter; he dipped up some salt water from outside, and they should be at the shore within a day at most. In the meanwhile, he'd just make some ice for Uncle, to help him regain the blood he'd lost. They were already better off than during their three weeks on a few planks.

Once Uncle confirmed that the pain-killing gum had done its work, Zuko began to unwrap the makeshift bandage and sponge off the blood. It didn't look good, but at least there was almost no fresh blood. Uncle must have clotted the wounds early on with his firebending. While fighting and steering and the rest of it. How could a man so amazing act so much like a clueless child at times?

Under Uncle's guidance, he attempted to set the bone, but it was no good; the break was a complex one. "We have to get you to a healer," Zuko decided, as he started to apply a splint just to keep the bones from moving any more for now. His stomach was still queasy from the sensation of something clicking under the muscles of Uncle's arm. "You can't afford to lose the use of your arm."

"Nothing so terrible will happen, Zuko. All breaks heal eventually."

"Yeah, assuming you don't get _fever_, and _infection_, and that it won't heal in such a way that you can't _move_ it right. We need a healer."

"It's dangerous, Zuko. We're refugees now, don't you understand? Let's not borrow trouble. We don't need to look for a healer _before_ all your gloomy predictions come to pass."

"I understand fine!" Zuko flared. "It's my fault I got you into such danger, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to get you out of it."

"Zuko, no, it's not your fault –"

"It is. You tried to warn me, didn't you? You must have known they'd be looking for a scapegoat for the North Pole. I'm such an idiot, I never even thought about it… I'm sorry I wouldn't listen, Uncle."

"Calm down, Zuko. You were not the one trying to attack me."

"They think you're a traitor," Zuko blinked back tears. "You, of all people. They don't want to believe it, but they think – who would dare say it if it weren't true? It's like – like poison, that doubt. They wouldn't have given you a fair chance."

"As you yourself just noted, I knew that already."

"You still came. Why, Uncle?"

Iroh sighed, and looked meditative. "I think I'll let you figure that one out on your own." Almost to himself, he murmured, "I hope it takes you less time than it did for me."

"Why, how long did it take you to figure out the – something, Uncle?"

"I first began to understand it at around the age of twenty five, as I recall. Why, are you feeling competitive?"

Zuko felt himself grin. "I think I am, actually. Nine more years, huh? I'll make it my goal to figure it out before then."

"A fair deadline," Iroh smiled. "Let's get some rest now; we both need it."

"Do you want some water before we turn in?" Zuko asked as he went to arrange their one bedroll and few blankets. He wished now he'd paused to grab his own pack from his room, but unlike Uncle, he couldn't fight just as well burdened as unburdened. A night on the floor wouldn't do him any harm.

"No, I just want to sleep," Uncle yawned, then peered closely at the arrangements. "Zuko, what do you think you're doing?"

"Uncle Iroh, please," Zuko sighed. "You're injured, and you've got that bad back you're always complaining about. I can't get you a masseur right now, but I can get you the relative softness of the bedroll. Can we not argue about it for once? I don't have the energy for it."

"Good move, appealing to your opponent's sense of fair play," Uncle yawned, then went to lie down.

"We're not opponents, I hope. Good night, Uncle."

"Good night, Zuko."


	11. Honorable Reasons

**Chapter 11**

Uncle was already awake when Zuko managed to open his eyes the next day. The position of the sun in the sky told him it was past noon, so it was no wonder. All the same, he felt rather embarrassed by it, and by the weakness he still felt. When he hauled in some water in preparation for making ice out of it, his arms actually trembled.

Both of their stomachs growled, but the water did help a bit. All they had to do was sit and wait till they reached shore, and keep a lookout for pursuit. So far, the sea around them stayed empty. They entertained each other with stories of what they had each done the night before during their escape while separated. Uncle loved the story of the "spirit," declaring that his seashells had never dreamed of a nobler fate, and he praised Zuko's tactics, even if he had a few sharp things to say about better planning and obvious mistakes. It was good advice for the future, so Zuko didn't mind. Uncle didn't praise him that often, so no amount of criticism could dampen his pleasure.

Then Uncle reenacted his "little old helpless man" routine for Zuko's benefit, from the moment he stumbled into the hallway blinking and yawning, to the profoundly childish way he'd pretended to be frightened by a "nightmare," to the timid knock on Zuko's door, where Iroh of course knew perfectly well he wasn't… Apparently, the soldiers had fallen all over each other trying to calm him down when he'd started shrieking that his nephew had been stolen by the spirits, just like in his dream. Zuko rather winced at that one, but he had to admit Uncle told the story well. Still, his favorite part was the one where Uncle slipped back behind all the guards and locked them into the room before merrily making his way down to the deck.

The story was not over at the happy ending, of course. They spent the next couple of hours with Uncle explaining the tactics and fighting moves he'd employed on the deck and in the cargo hold for Zuko's benefit. They both regretted that there wasn't enough room in the boat for a true demonstration, never mind practice, but Zuko stored it up in his memory eagerly.

In the late afternoon, something flashed near the horizon. Worried, they watched it, but it didn't look anything like a Fire Nation vessel. In fact, it didn't look like any kind of vessel that Zuko had ever seen, and even Uncle was hard pressed to recognize it.

"It's a twinned ship!" Uncle finally exclaimed. "The Northern Water Tribe uses them."

"They haven't left their territory in about eighty years. What are they doing here?!"

"Reacquainting themselves with the wonders of the world?" Uncle shrugged.

"We're too obviously in a Fire Nation boat, and we can't go any faster," Zuko glanced over the instrument panel in the hopes of an idea, but none appeared. "We don't have enough coal left for maneuvering. They seem to be slowly gaining on us, too."

"We'll have to hope for the best," Uncle sighed. "I don't think they'll attack without at least trying to find out who we are. If we can convince them we're just two harmless people, their sense of honor ought to let us pass. Only if they recognize us will there be trouble."

"They haven't been in much contact with the rest of the world in decades. How would they recognize us?"

"Something important must have happened to cause them to venture out like this. They may have learned the need for listening to outside rumors in the past month."

"Important," Zuko echoed. "That's a big ship. Important enough to have one of those healers aboard you told me about?"

"Zuko, stop that immediately. You take too many risks."

"That's a yes, isn't it? We can do it, Uncle." Zuko dug frantically through the bag of their few remaining belongings. "You even brought the hat, and it's appropriately battered! Change into these," he said, flinging the green clothes in Uncle's general direction. "We're not Fire Nation royalty for this encounter. We're Earth Kingdom refugees, who had the misfortune to be trapped aboard a Fire Nation ship, and the great good luck to escape. They won't refuse aid to an injured man from an ally nation who has suffered at the hands of their enemies."

"They wouldn't, at that," Uncle said slowly. "To heal a bone break, however, requires more than a few hours even for the Water Tribe healers." Zuko had to rip the sleeve of the shirt away to get Uncle's splinted arm through the hole, which would only add to the verisimilitude, then turned his back to give him privacy to finish changing. Uncle sighed. "Ah, Zuko, did you really have to get such – frumpy clothes? Where is your appreciation of beauty?"

"It's right where it always has been, Uncle. What I 'appreciated' was that even the most dirt-poor Earth Kingdom peasant wouldn't buy those clothes if he had any other choice. Thus, we look the part of refugees."

"It's sound thinking." Uncle sighed again. "I would have chosen to play another part, however. You can turn around now."

"You can pick the parts next time," Zuko promised, though of course he hoped that no such occasion would arise. On turning around, his gaze immediately went to his uncle's hair. "You do look like a refugee. But the topknot…"

"Has to go. I don't mind. Give me your knife."

His knife? He had only meant for Uncle to unbind his hair. Zuko handed it over silently, more upset than he thought he would be at this. People usually cut their topknot hair as a sign of protest, to grieve a profound loss, or to go on pilgrimage. Those categories all applied uncomfortably well to Uncle. People thought he was a traitor now, and he had to hide himself away.

The knife slid through.

"I'm sorry, Uncle," he said again. "I will prove to everyone that you are not a traitor somehow. You won't have to put up with this for any longer than I can help it."

Uncle gave him a very strange look at that. "Zuko, what do you think you can do to prove my innocence?"

"I can talk to Father, find out who slandered you and how –"

"Zuko, wait!" Uncle flung up his hand for emphasis. "How are you going to talk to your father? Have you forgotten –"

"I've forgotten nothing," Zuko interrupted eagerly. "You were going to say that Azula will now get Father to revoke his welcome so I'm still banished, weren't you? But I can still capture the Avatar and return home with my honor."

"Zuko," Uncle gritted unexpectedly, "think a moment. You've helped a traitor escape. By the laws of our nation, that makes you a traitor yourself. You're in as much danger as I am. You can't go home – Azula said they'd imprison you! _Listen_ to me, Zuko!"

"She was probably lying about that part, too," he shrugged. "And even if she wasn't, capturing the Avatar will prove I am no failure. Yes, I'd be a traitor if I helped a traitor escape, but since you're not, then I am not one, either. Dad will understand."

Uncle actually looked horrified for some reason. "Are you even hearing yourself, never mind me?"

Zuko blinked. "Uncle, why are you so upset about this? I know I'll need to be careful of encountering anyone who could recognize me from both the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom, until this is resolved. If that's what you're worried about, don't be."

"How exactly will you be careful?" Uncle demanded. "You know nothing of being careful!"

"That's not true," Zuko answered, somewhat hurt.

"You never think things through, but you need to think about this _now_."

"I have thought about it! Azula will be looking for the two of us, I know, but we can hide. I know where the Avatar is headed. I'll capture him and I'll – all right, I can't head into the Fire Nation right away, but I can write to Father. Once he knows that I've fulfilled my task, he will welcome me home with honor. You – you'd probably have to stay behind for a few weeks, while I search for the evidence. Then –"

"I need you to promise me something, Prince Zuko," Uncle said gravely.

"What?"

"Promise me you will not try to enter the Fire Nation without me."

"But Uncle, it's a good plan!"

"It's a terrible plan. You've learned so much, my nephew. You can handle yourself in situations that would bewilder much older men. What I haven't been able to teach you, though, is politics. There wasn't exactly any way to practice, you know. Well, the moment you set foot back in the Fire Nation – the moment you start trying to communicate with the Fire Nation, in fact – those politics will trip you up."

Zuko swallowed down his automatic protest. "Politics was what got me banished." He swallowed again. "All right, Uncle, I promise. I won't go without you, even if it means I have to establish your innocence from outside the Fire Nation. Just promise me that as soon as we do have any way to practice, you'll teach me."

Uncle smiled at him blindingly. "I will. You learn quickly, at least when you want to. Yes, you will practice."

It was one of those times that Zuko suspected his uncle of a hidden meaning, but could not even begin to figure out what that meaning might be. As usual, he shrugged the feeling off, since he could do nothing about it. "My knife?"

Uncle handed it over. Zuko reached back to grasp at the long hair he'd worn all his life, but it only took him a second to decide. The knife slid through his hair just as easily. The distinctive hairstyle would have been difficult to hide, and perhaps some of those categories applied to him, too, even if he couldn't name which ones. His head felt odd, or maybe tilted awkwardly, without the weight of it. Zuko found a reflective bit of metal to look at it. A quick scrape removed most of the rest of his hair, so that the patch didn't stand out quite so much. The hat should cover the worst of it, anyway.

Uncle, who had not spoken a word throughout, now stepped forward. "What will you do about the scar? The hat won't hide it once you are aboard; the Water Tribe people consider it disrespectful not to look at a person you're talking to, just as we do."

"I think…" Zuko swallowed, aware that Uncle would not like this, "Since it will take some time for you to heal, I think our story should be that we are not related. We just met during our imprisonment, and we now go our separate ways. You on the Water Tribe ship, and I will stay on the boat. Wait, don't say no just yet! It's just for a little while. We don't know where the Water Tribe ship is going, and I need to catch up with the Avatar. We can meet up again in a couple of weeks."

"I wouldn't slow you down, Zuko," he said reproachfully.

"You can't exactly promise me not to get sick from your injury, can you? I'm not worried that you'd slow me down. I'm worried about what lengths you'd go to in order not to slow me down. This way, you get healed, and when we meet again, I might even have the Avatar already. If not, we'll travel together from then on."

"I don't like it," Uncle shook his head.

"I know. But can you honestly think of a better plan? Also, remember that Azula will be looking for the both of us together. Splitting up may confound her somewhat. The Avatar was headed for Omashu, then Gaoling… The nearest port to Gaoling which is unfriendly to the Fire Nation is Chailan. Ask them to take you there, or hire a boat if they won't take you that far – either way, you'll obviously be an ordinary man, not one they should suspect. I remember that a lot of the poor people go out at low tide to look for their suppers, so if you are just one more of those, no one will question it, and I'll come find you. Two weeks, three at most."

The argument wasn't over yet, and Zuko had to remind Uncle that he'd been successful at not letting people find out his identity before, but in the end, Uncle gave in. "I can see you won't be swayed from this course," he murmured. "You did have some good results with your mini-vacations before, too. Very well. Just remember that your poor old uncle may have a heart attack and die from worry if you're late."

"I'll remember."

"Don't forget to hide yourself as much as possible."

"I won't, Uncle."

"And don't forget to eat – you need to keep your strength up."

"I'm sixteen! I'm not a child!"

Uncle muttered something that sounded like "It's debatable." Zuko glared. Uncle was one to talk. A number more admonishments followed, which Zuko bore as best he could. This was revenge for all the times he had left without hearing the full litany, he was sure. "Uncle," he interrupted at last in his desperation, "won't the people aboard that ship wonder why we haven't reacted to their presence yet? Perhaps you should open the hatch as if trying to get a better look, and give them a glimpse of your green clothing."

Uncle followed the suggestion, but stayed looking out for over a minute. "They've altered their course to meet with us," he reported, "and we may just have had some very good luck. If I'm not mistaken, I know one of the waterbenders aboard. Not well, but enough that he would not hesitate to help me."

"Won't he reveal who you are to the others?" Maybe this was a bad idea, after all.

"No. He, like myself, knows the value of keeping silent in a surprising situation."

"Is he the man who helped us out of the city?"

"Yes."

"All right," Zuko felt very relieved. Uncle really did make friends everywhere he went. Why Father had not appointed him Chief Diplomat, Zuko didn't know. "You'll really have to tell me that story, sometime. How you got to know him, I mean."

"I will," Uncle smiled. "I think you will find it interesting; but now is not the time. Names, we need Earth Kingdom names."

"I'll be Lee; I've used that name before," Zuko volunteered. "You, uhh… umm… Mushi?"

Uncle glared. "What kind of a name is that?"

"An unexpected one?" Zuko offered weakly.

The glare intensified, but fortunately, the ship caught up with them at that moment. "Ahoy there!" came the faint cry through the metal of the boat. "Show yourselves!"

They both clambered out onto the tiny deck, and Zuko tugged his hat more firmly into place. "Greetings!" Uncle called, waving his arm cheerfully. "I could barely believe my eyes, but those clothes – do any of you by chance know Master Pakku?"

"I'm Master Pakku," a tall man stepped out from behind the mast. His tone was not particularly inviting.

"Pakku!" Uncle enthused. "We last saw each other some time ago; I hope you still remember me. It's," the barest hesitation, "Mushi. We met over a friendly game of Pai Sho in North Port – I remember you grumbling that you had never lost to anyone quite so badly before!"

"Oh?" The man's stance relaxed quite a bit. "Good to see you again, Mushi, but that's not how I remember it. I remember _you_ bemoaning that you had not foreseen my clever use of the Dragon's Hide defense. Actually, didn't you say it was the most brilliant use of that tactic you'd ever seen?"

"I clearly need to refresh your memory," Uncle laughed. "What do you say, a rematch? The Strong-Stemmed Flower tactic is just as useful as it's ever been against such defense."

"I'd be honored," Pakku sketched a bow. "May I ask, though, how you ended up in these unusual circumstances?"

"Lee and I were both captured about a day ago by the Fire Nation. Thank the Spirits, we managed to escape. My poor arm, however, didn't quite escape with the rest of me." He pointed at the splinted and sling-held arm to illustrate.

"We can take care of that easily," Pakku offered without being asked. "Let down the ropes!" he ordered someone standing behind him. "You are welcome on our ship, Honorable Mushi. You too – Lee, was it?"

Zuko bowed. "It is very kind of you, but I – I need to get back to my family. The Fire Nation… I need to know if they're all right. This boat will take me there."

Pakku's glance flickered over to Uncle for a moment, obviously deferring to Uncle's judgment. "Very well," answered Pakku with some curiosity in his tone. "I can certainly understand your concern."

Zuko bowed low to Uncle, then, since he knew if they hadn't been surrounded by strangers, Uncle would have hugged him again.

Uncle shook his head with a sad smile. "Goodbye, Lee. I hope our paths will cross again."

"It would be the greatest of pleasures."

Uncle caught at the ladder hanging from the Water Tribe ship; several people pulled him up before he could even attempt to climb with a broken arm. Zuko went back inside and set his course.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Iroh's arm had been set and nearly healed (it would need just a few more sessions), they'd given him a new set of comfortable clothes and some delicious food (though the sea prunes were obviously an acquired taste), and Pakku came by to invite him to a game of Pai Sho. Iroh was looking forward to this rematch. Only one more thing would make it perfect. Well, two, but the second one needed some planning. "Do you have any tea?" he asked eagerly, as he sat down on the soft furs inside Pakku's small room.<p>

"Of course," Pakku reassured him. "I will have some made for us. The guest has the first move," he gestured at the board. Since Pakku already knew who he was, Iroh started a normal game. Well, as normal as a game between two high-level opponents who both tried to predict each others' moves could be. For the next hour, they concentrated solely on the game (though Iroh also concentrated on his tea every once in a while). When they reached midgame, that was when the conversation started, as distracting the opponent could be just as much a part of the game as the tiles.

"So," Pakku began. "Last time, you were Lee. What in the world made you think of 'Mushi' for your alias?"

"I didn't choose it; it was entirely my nephew's idea," Iroh shrugged with a smile. "Don't ask me where he got it; his mind goes to strange places, sometimes."

"Your nephew – the Firelord's son?"

"Yes."

"Going under your old alias currently?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's better than 'Mushi.' Where is he going?"

Iroh chose his words with care. "I'm not entirely sure, although I believe Omashu is his first destination, and he has promised to meet me at Chailan-port. He changes his direction often, however."

"Iroh," Pakku hissed softly. "I'm sure you must be aware that I trained the Avatar in waterbending. I've heard a number of stories about your nephew, and they were not pleasant ones. Is he a danger to the balance of the world?"

"He _is_ a danger – that boy is going to be the death of me – but to the balance? No, I don't believe it. His destiny is complicated, but complications are the heart of balance."

"But he _is_ hunting the Avatar."

"That's what he believes. I'm not entirely sure he is right, however."

Pakku was silent for a moment. "I received your letter the day after the two of you left. You only mentioned that a young friend of yours could benefit from being exposed to our culture, and that he was not ready to be a member of our society, but would be in the future. I didn't think you would put the Avatar in danger like that."

"I didn't. His only intention when he arrived at the North Pole was to talk with the Avatar. Well, to arrange a truce, to be precise, though I knew he'd probably be unable to accomplish that."

"Iroh, why do you trust him, if he changes his direction so often?" Pakku asked point-blank.

Iroh sighed. He'd never been that fond of Pakku. The man was a worthy member of their society, yes (particularly in upholding the "truth" part of "philosophy, beauty, and truth") , but he was as cold as the waters beneath his home. Iroh had met other waterbenders; he knew they weren't usually like that. Pakku was the man in front of him, however. What would he understand of the flickering nature of fire? To him, "burning brightly" was probably not a compliment.

"Why do you trust a twelve-year-old to save the world?" he countered.

"I asked first."

"Your answer will have relevance to mine."

Pakku was silent for a time; the move he made upon the board was part of a delaying tactic. "Aang is flighty, and does not take his duties nearly as seriously as he must. I did doubt him at first. Then I saw him when the Fire Navy fleet came to our shores. He will do what he must, when it comes down to it. Not enough people care about the world in the first place. He knows the value of caring for the world, and he cares more deeply than most, but that's not even the whole of it. He will not let the fact that he's twelve and frightened stop him, when people need him. He will always seek a way forward. The best thing to do for a child like that is smooth his path and let him run. Maybe he won't save the world, but I would be very surprised, if that were so."

Iroh nodded and made his next move – a small point in the net he would weave around Pakku's wheel tile. "Zuko is in some ways the opposite. He takes his duties far too seriously. He's been all over the world without really seeing it, and I doubt it has ever occurred to him that the world is something one could care for. He refuses to see the truth staring him in the face. I've often wondered when – not always if – he might lose himself in the lies surrounding him. Yet I've never seen him choose the wrong path yet. Time and again, when it comes down to it, I think I see him stumble only to realize he's leapt over an impossible obstacle. I know you haven't heard good of him, but those have been the voices of people who do not understand the strain he is under. He thinks he has to hurt people, and yet he doesn't. That's how I know I can trust him."

Pakku nodded slightly, but then paused. "It's good to hear you say so. Yet what might he do in his self-deception? He obeys the Firelord's orders."

Iroh spun a tile through his fingers. "We _were_ prisoners, Pakku. Zuko didn't understand that, however – probably still doesn't (I did mention the part about refusing to see the truth, right?) He thought he was going home, where he would have everything he'd longed for in three long years away. You don't know how he tore himself apart trying to go home – I cannot adequately express the full horror of it. Yet when he found out I was in danger, I don't think it even occurred to him to hesitate; he immediately threw away everything so that he could help me escape. He is his father's son, but that is only a part of who he is. It will never be the whole."

"Then what are the other parts?"

"His own, mostly. Yet he is also his mother's son. The great-grandchild of both Sozin and Roku. And he is my nephew."

An unexpected softness crept into Pakku's expression. "He means a lot to you."

"He is like a second son to me."

Pakku raised his eyebrows.

"My wife died giving birth for the second time, and the infant died with her. Zuko was born several years later, and he was also expected to die, but he fought and lived. I know reincarnation requires no more than several days, but… on occasion, it has been an entertaining fancy."

He expected Pakku to laugh at that, and he was fully prepared to laugh along, but the other man didn't. "I met a young girl recently," he began, uncharacteristically hesitant. "Amazing in every way. Determined, bold, more talented and dedicated than any other student I've ever seen… I hope she doesn't hold my initial dismissal of her too much against me. We were always taught that women are not fighters, but she is, if ever there was one."

"I never understood that part of your philosophy, you know," Iroh put in.

"I'm beginning to think it's a philosophy that should change. She was one of those who made me think it, though I fought against the idea as usual. Then I found out that…" Pakku swallowed. "Sixty years ago, I fell in love. She left, I never married. I couldn't love anyone else. It turned out that the girl was the granddaughter of the woman I loved. I found out because she carried a keepsake – the engagement necklace I carved. Kanna kept it all these years and passed it on to her daughter, who passed it on to hers… I don't know why, since she kept nothing else of mine and married someone else, but a man can hope, can't he?" Pakku smiled slightly. Iroh nodded, fascinated. "All I could think was that she should have been my granddaughter. I've never had children, never wanted any – I had students aplenty and I knew what children were like. Yet I wanted Katara to be my granddaughter, for my blood to form a part of her strength."

"And she isn't, like Zuko isn't my son, but blood is meaningless, in such situations," Iroh agreed softly. "They are ours in the way that matters."

"Yes."

"She has a brother, too, doesn't she?"

Pakku waved a dismissive hand. "That boy needs a few more years, at least, before he takes shape."

Iroh frowned a little – growing up in the family he did, he was well-aware of the dangers of favoritism – but let it go. After all, someone might equally criticize him for favoring Zuko over Azula, if they didn't know the full story. "Well, and where are they now?"

"Helping the Avatar as before. He trusts, them, you know, though they are barely older than he is. And Katara is now good enough to teach the Avatar everything he didn't learn from me," Pakku announced proudly. "You were going to ask why we have left our tribe next, I'm sure. We're headed to our sister tribe in the south, to help them rebuild."

"I was right!" Iroh interjected. "It's long past time your people stopped isolating themselves quite so much."

"You know why we did it," Pakku said flatly. Yes, and fifteen years ago, Iroh himself had been part of the reason why. He offered an apologetic smile. Pakku relaxed a little, and went on, "While there, I intend to see what else I can rebuild."

A smile of genuine delight lit Iroh's face. "Not that you'll need it, I'm sure, but good luck!"

A smaller smile touched Pakku's lips. They played a while longer in silence.

"I have an idea," Iroh began. "There are a lot of crossing paths in our stories. I am sure that destiny is trying to guide us. We ought to heed that."

"What did you have in mind?"

Iroh smiled. Almost perfect now. "First, we are going to send a call out to the White Lotus Society…"

* * *

><p>Jee sighed and rubbed at his tired eyes. It had been over a month since the North Pole, but none of them could sleep well yet. They had been lucky to be far enough back to avoid the wrath of the Spirit Fish – the ocean itself, some said, but Jee knew better. He'd seen that glowing-white figure before. The Avatar. In retrospect, Prince Zuko had been right about a number of things.<p>

Once the slaughter was over, all of Prince Zuko's former crew ignored the Captain's commands to leave quickly and staged a minor mutiny. They had taken over the engine room, with the willing help of their new comrades, and sailed back to search for survivors. That made theirs the first ship on the scene; others followed once they saw it was relatively safe. Jee shivered, remembering that hurried nightmare search in the dark, with the pitiless icy moon not nearly enough for clear sight, and the swift and brutal cold which left most of the survivors too weak to cry out. There had been so few survivors, too; of the ones they saved, several died later from their wounds and from the terrible cold of the ocean. It had been tricky to stay out of the waterbenders' range, so they couldn't take nearly as much time and care as they wished. In less than an hour, they could no longer find anyone still alive. As if that wasn't bad enough, the already dead, they'd had to leave behind, or they would have started losing the rescuers as well.

They got yelled at, of course, when they reached home at last, and there had been a show trial, but it had been hard to care at the time. The Navy could not really afford to lose any more people right now. More than one of the Commanders and Admirals had quietly let them know that they should all have received medals. The admiring voices had to speak in such hushed tones, however, that they could not drown out the ones who talked of chain of command and discipline. Those bastards, who would never have dipped so much as a toe into the freezing ocean, not to save their own families, considered it more important to punish the mutineers. The whole problem with the Navy these days was that their voices carried so much weight.

Those high-ups decided that if they couldn't push for direct imprisonment, they would make an example of the rebellious officers, anyway, and contain them before they could spread their ideas to the rest of the fleet. They had all been assigned to the same ship once more, and the ship was now on the most boring patrol route imaginable. Jee had been demoted to Petty Officer, but who cared? He actually had more authority here than he ever had before. They had a new Captain, yes, but one who wasn't interested in captaining. He stayed in his room all day, reading, and signed off on any course changes brought to him without looking. (At least with Prince Zuko, no one could ever doubt that he worked as hard as anyone, even if he also had a tendency to stay in his room at times.) By default, most of the authority now fell onto Jee's shoulders, since he had been the highest-ranking officer on Prince Zuko's ship, and the newer additions to the crew deferred to the judgment of the original group. He wasn't sure he liked them all looking up to him, but he did his best to prove himself worthy.

Their small group of conspirators had really pulled together in the past month. The petty vandalism and revenge in which they'd engaged at first had grown into something more after the North Pole disaster. The original list overlapped so well with the list of those who considered discipline more important than lives, after all. So many good people were dead. Enough was enough. Theoretically, they could petition the Firelord about their grievances, but of the only two members of the royal family who had proven to care about the lives of ordinary people, one was dead and the other missing and presumed dead. They had to help themselves.

Slowly and carefully, they began to spread their network. They had nothing less in mind than a complete change in the Navy's leadership. The Firelord could appoint whatever admirals he wanted, of course, but even he would have to pause and pay attention if most of the Navy demanded for someone else to be put in charge. Of course, they could all be executed for treason, too. That possibility made it difficult to recruit. Ironically, the defeat at the North Pole actually made this the best possible time. If they could just get enough people, mass executions would mean that there would be no one left to crew the ships.

So, however difficult it was, they wouldn't let anything stop them, and here came Lo Tseng with the latest bit of news. No one could have called him a good communications officer previously; messages had often gone delayed under his care (or worse, before Prince Zuko had instilled his own brand of discipline). It turned out, however, that all the diminutive old man needed to motivate him was some excitement. He'd proven to be one of the most valuable members of their network, and he could pull news and gossip seemingly out of thin air.

"Jee!" Lo Tseng seemed even more excited than usual. "You will not believe this!"

Out of habit, they found an empty room to conspire in, although it was hardly necessary here. Still, you never knew who would turn informer. Once they secreted themselves, Lo Tseng took great relish in dropping the shoe. Jee had to blink. "Prince Zuko and General Iroh, alive?! Are you sure?"

"Yes, both of them! Washed up on the northwest coast of the Earth Kingdom."

Jee found himself staggered, and blinked a few times, too. Alive? How? No one could have survived that explosion – except the kid did have a talent for doing the impossible. And General Iroh – last seen at the North Pole, but not on the list of prisoners – how had they found each other? Alive. Soon to be back in action.

"This changes things," he said eagerly. The Firelord obviously had no love for those two members of his family, but he couldn't execute them like ordinary people, and people would follow General Iroh a lot more easily than they would follow anyone else. "Don't you think they'd be on our side?"

"General Iroh, certainly," Lo Tseng acknowledged.

"Prince Zuko, too," Jee frowned. "I'm pretty sure he would see it our way, anyway. And the General would straighten him out otherwise."

Lo Tseng nodded. "Actually, that kid asked for all of the prisoners to be ransomed, so you're probably right. There's more, though. They're missing again, and have been declared traitors."

"What?!"

"No one seems to know exactly what happened," Lo Tseng explained, but he turned out to know a lot anyway. Princess Azula had been the one to declare them traitors with see-through thin excuses, then invited them aboard her ship treacherously. Her own family… oh, Agni guard them, if that girl should ever become Firelord, which seemed more and more possible by the day. Somehow, however, they had seen through her and escaped. They left behind a ship wrecked far beyond what two people could have managed, even if one of them was General Iroh. Fantastic stories had been told to explain that – everything from a whole army swooping in to rescue them to spirits stopping the ship in its tracks.

Jee did not put much stock in the spirit story, until Lo Tseng dropped the detail that some of the Princess' crew claimed to have seen the Blue Spirit – who had floated in thin air and crumpled metal with a touch of his hand. That was nonsense, of course, but something about the story tugged at Jee's mind. After Lo Tseng hurried out to deliver the news to the rest of the crew (Jee thought that in any case, the unexpected survival deserved a celebration, and no one would argue with that), he turned it over in his mind. The first time he heard of the Blue Spirit had been near Pohuai Stronghold, where the gossip that flowed back to the ship had told of that same spirit personally flying the Avatar out of the fortress (or the other way around – that hadn't been entirely clear). The soldiers there had sworn he was a ghost; that he had appeared out of thin air, and even the archers' arrows had passed right through him.

Arrows. Just the day before, Prince Zuko had been in despair that Zhao had blocked his attempts to capture the Avatar. Then he left without telling anyone where he was going, and didn't return until the morning. When he came back, he didn't seem worried about Zhao anymore and sported an arrow wound that he hadn't wanted anyone to know about. Just the one wound. If he'd had to dodge the Yu Yan archers, it must have taken both a lot of skill and sheer luck to come back no more injured.

Now, a mysterious spirit just appeared to help Prince Zuko and General Iroh escape, and he, too, seemed to perform impossible feats. Jee had no proof, but he had a hunch that he knew the identity of the Blue Spirit. A slow smile spread across his face. Oh, this could be very interesting. If Prince Zuko had found a way to defy a high-ranking Admiral and his own sister without being found out, that kid could probably give them all tips on silent revolt. If he and the General were now called traitors (what kind of craziness did it take to come up with such a ridiculous charge?), then they would need some help, too. And if they joined the cause, even on the sly – oh, things could change so much around here…

He gave orders to Lo Tseng to monitor carefully any rumors regarding the Blue Spirit's appearances, in addition to everything else. They'd be ready.

* * *

><p>There were gasps all around Zuko as they finally saw Omashu. Zuko was stunned, too. When had the Fire Nation conquered the city? He'd heard nothing – it must have been very recent. Still, how? Even with the floating bridges he could see, subduing a city so well-situated and defended should have taken months at least. There had been talks of plans, but as far as he knew, no attacks had begun, as recently as a month ago.<p>

His fists clenched and his eyes closed. He'd fallen in with this band of refugees in his Blue Spirit persona, because he needed a way inside the city, and the guards would probably not bother one refugee amongst the crowd of over thirty people if people vouched for him. In his current situation, being known as the non-speaking kook in a mask was a shade better than being known as the distinctively scarred young man. Even if none of them knew of the Fire Nation prince, he couldn't take the chance on rumors finding their way back to Azula. Some of the refugees had heard of the Blue Spirit, actually, from the wanted posters, so it had been easier than he'd expected to gain their trust. He'd traded some of the medicines from the boat for food. The children in the group soon found his mask funny rather than scary. The old woman whose grandson finally stopped crying when his burns were treated had lost her wariness of him and allowed him to walk with her family companionably. It had all been for nothing.

Night began to fall, but the refugees still huddled near the top of the mountainside, lost and dazed. From the murmurs around him, Zuko learned that they despaired of finding safety anywhere. Ba Sing Se was too far away for them to make it. Maybe they would attempt it, anyway. What else could they do?

(Coldly, he pushed their worries away from himself. It couldn't be helped. War displaced people. Injuries were inevitable. Just because they were in his face now didn't mean anything.)

Zuko paced around, trying to think. The Avatar would not find a teacher inside occupied Omashu, so Zuko probably needed to go on to Gaoling. On the other hand, perhaps the Avatar planned another devastating attack on the Fire Nation soldiers inside the city, like he had at the North Pole. If so, Zuko couldn't stand by and do nothing. He had to try to warn someone, and to capture the Avatar before the attack could be launched. He needed some way of gaining information, and his way inside the city had just closed.

His impatient pacing brought him around a turn and his breath caught in surprise. So many glowing lights down in that valley – campfires, by the look of it. It couldn't be a Fire Nation camp – too poorly organized for that – and with the city so near, nobody from the Fire Nation would need to camp. So these were some other people – other refugees, or perhaps fighters, or… Earth Kingdom, anyway. He ran back to the little band and gestured for them to come. When they finally followed, a new, fragile hope rippled through the group when they saw the fires and came to the same conclusions. Slowly, they began to descend, cautious in case this was some sort of trap. Zuko, who had his own concerns about his welcome, went on ahead far more swiftly, but no less cautiously. He would see what he was dealing with before he revealed himself, if he did so at all.

Down on the road below, he saw a distinctive flash of white. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see more clearly. Yes, there was a small figure in front of the white.

Rage burned through him. The Avatar. Walking along as if good people weren't dead because of him.

Alone. Zuko flew down the mountainside. The Avatar would pay.

Before he could launch his attack, though, he saw a different lump of white out of the corner of his eye. Confusion made him pause. One was Appa. The other one, though, the one he saw first, was some other kind of large white creature. Had he been about to attack an innocent stranger?

No, that was the Avatar, right enough. Zuko was now close enough to see the yellow robes on the figure in front of the strange creature. Appa was formidable enough by himself without bringing in the sharp-toothed thing. Not to mention the two people with Appa he could now see. Katara and Sokka. They were all very close to the campfires. The sounds of a fight would be heard, and if these were the Avatar's allies – who else could they be, with him walking along so carelessly? – Zuko could not fight off an entire campful alone.

Zuko swallowed down the acid rising in his throat. What was he thinking? He needed to capture the Avatar. Fighting him might feel good, but would not get Zuko back home, nor would it clear Uncle's name. Quietly, he crept closer to the two groups, about to meet. He was shaking with unspent rage, but he needed to be quiet and find out information.

"We looked everywhere," he heard the Avatar say. "No Bumi." He sounded downcast. Zuko's teeth clenched harder. What did _he_ have to be sad about?

Katara hugged him anyway, of course. Sokka hugged the distressed creature. A man in Earth Kingdom clothes approached them. "We've got a problem," he announced without pause. "We just did a head count."

"Oh, no. Did someone get left behind?" Katara asked.

"No," he pointed, "we've got an extra."

Zuko's head turned to look along with the others'. Grieving Spirits, he really needed to pay more attention to his surroundings. How had he missed the baby in Fire Nation clothes, clutching at Momo and giggling? Or Momo's occasional upset hiss, since the baby wouldn't let go even when Momo dragged it with his body weight?

The Avatar ran to rescue his pet from the baby's clutches. The lemur's fur was standing straight up as he scrambled his way up to the Avatar's head, where he curled up into the tiniest ball possible. Katara distracted the baby from the loss of its furry friend. The group settled slowly around the nearest campfire. They wondered amongst themselves how the baby could have been swept up in what sounded like a mass exodus, but came to no conclusions. Stumped, they decided they would wait until tomorrow to see what they could find out. The Avatar planned to continue his search for Bumi, and stated that he would look to see if he heard anything about the baby's parents at the same time.

It didn't sound like he planned to attack the city just yet, but Zuko wondered what would happen when this Bumi was found. Zuko resolved to follow the Avatar if he could. He could simply be flying in and out of the city, of course, but that creature didn't look like it could fly. The Avatar might know some other way inside.

Another Earth Kindom man approached and addressed the first one. "Sir, a group of refugees have arrived. They don't know where to go now that Omashu has been taken. What should we do?"

"Hmm," the man, obviously some sort of leader, pondered. "Do we have enough food to spare for everyone?"

"We do, for now."

"Ask if any of them want to join our fight."

"Sir, there are a number of children with them…"

"The ones with children can stay if they are willing to help out around camp and face the danger, or if they wish to leave, we will help them to the best of our ability. Pass the word."

The man bowed. "Just one more thing, sir. They say that there was another member of their group who went on ahead of them, and they are wondering what happened to him. They say he was, uh, the Blue Spirit?" That last was said with a healthy dollop of disbelief.

"Blue!" Sokka started, looking around eagerly. The others followed his lead, even the Avatar. "Is he here?"

The second man shrugged and spread his hands.

"We should look for him," said Katara.

The leader looked at them thoughtfully. "So it wasn't Fire Nation propaganda? The Blue Spirit really rescued you?" he addressed the Avatar.

"Sure did," the Avatar nodded. "He'd be a great help."

As offended as Zuko was at the notion that he would help the Avatar, he figured this was a good time to make his entrance. If they still trusted him, it would eliminate the need to sneak after the Avatar; he could just ask them about their plans. He leapt down from his hiding place.

The entire group startled at his sudden appearance, the baby gave out a cry, and the Earth Kingdom men reached for their weapons automatically. Sokka recovered first. "Aw, Blue, you really overdo the dramatic entrances, you know that?"

Zuko shrugged, and clasped forearms with him.

"Where the heck did you come from?" expostulated the leader. "I _know_ there was no one nearby."

Zuko gave him a stare.

"Don't feel bad, Yao, he's a master of hiding," the Avatar reassured the leader.

"I suppose he must be, to do the things he does," agreed Yao. Turning to his subordinate, he said, "Let the refugees know that we've found their friend – or he found us – and inform them of my offer." The man bowed and left.

Yao turned back to measure Zuko with a glance. "Two years ago, a three-times-removed cousin of mine and her boyfriend nearly got robbed, if not worse, in Gaoling. She said a man in a blue mask came out of nowhere to save them. Was that you?"

Zuko shrugged.

"Right, you have no idea if it was my cousin. She'd have been a young woman, very short, with light brown hair and outsized ears. She was just starting to learn the merchant's trade, and wandered into the wrong part of the city with her boyfriend and all her profits on her. Six or seven men ambushed them."

Zuko went to the fire, scooping up a twig on the way. "Sounds vaguely familiar, but I'm not sure," he wrote.

"Don't you talk?" asked Yao as they all resettled themselves around the fire. Zuko shook his head.

"The Fire Nation did something to him," Katara hissed at Yao.

He made a noise of understanding. "Bastards. Sounds like they made themselves a dangerous enemy, though. Serves them right."

Zuko tried not to twitch, but did so anyway. Fortunately, no one called him on it.

"Hey, where's your slate?" Sokka asked. "And your swords?" his voice rose. "In fact, you don't look so good, and you used to have way better clothes. What happened to you?"

Zuko felt tired all of a sudden. "A string of misfortunes," he wrote. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I wouldn't have thought you'd ever abandon your swords," Sokka said in some disbelief.

"I didn't. An explosion got them," Zuko wrote. "I was lucky to get out alive."

A frantic babble rose around him, all of them wanting an explanation. "I don't exactly want to relive nearly dying," he wrote angrily. "Another time, okay?"

"Right, right," Katara agreed, and subdued the others' remaining curiosity with a glare.

"Right, we're just glad to see you got out of it," Sokka said fervently. They were so warm and welcoming, Zuko found it almost unbearable.

"No explosion can stop you, right?" the Avatar smiled.

Zuko looked away, glad they couldn't see the loathing on his face. He could hardly stand to look at the Avatar, and didn't want to talk to him. He still looked twelve and innocent, even though Zuko knew it was a lie.

"Wait," Yao put in. "If the Blue Spirit looks different, and you can't see his face or hear his voice, how do you know it's still the same person?"

It was a good question. Zuko waited to see how this would play out.

"Are you kidding?" Sokka answered. "Who else could it be, moving like that? It's very different from any other person I've seen."

Zuko raised his eyebrow beneath the mask. So Sokka noticed things like that. Yet he had made no connection between the Blue Spirit and Zuko. Zuko knew he walked a certain way as a prince. Was it really so different?

"Well," Yao hedged.

"We can check, just in case. Blue, do you mind?" Zuko shook his head. "What did you ask Katara to help you with, in that cave where you found us the second time?"

It was an excellent question – one that no one but those present in the cave could answer, and a detail so small it was unlikely they'd shared it with anyone.

"My sewing skills," he wrote.

"There!" Sokka announced triumphantly. "You think anyone could have guessed that?"

Yao smiled. "No, I don't think so. Sorry for doubting you, Blue Spirit."

Zuko waved a hand in negation. "Good idea to be cautious," he wrote.

"That's the truth," Yao sighed. "So it was probably you who helped my cousin, too – I doubt too many other people are running around with that mask. It's a much less glamorous thing than helping the Avatar, but my family offers its sincere appreciation."

Zuko bowed slightly, uncomfortable. He hadn't exactly been thinking of anything but his own desires, on those few occasions he interfered with a mugging.

Momo, who had finally uncurled from his perch on the Avatar's red cap, leapt into his lap and demanded attention. Zuko scratched his ears absently.

"I thought you said you _didn't_ make a habit of rescuing people," Sokka teased.

Zuko nodded strongly.

"We're on to you," Sokka wagged a finger.

Zuko threw his arms up in the air in exasperation. He couldn't exactly explain, and Sokka was just being nice. "What are you doing here, and who are all these people?" he wrote instead. With any luck, they'd tell him if they planned to attack the city. Momo, dislodged from his comfortable spot by all the motion, flew off again.

"This is the Resistance Movement of Omashu," Sokka explained. "We ran into them when we entered the city to look for Aang's friend, Bumi – you remember, to teach Aang earthbending."

Zuko cast a glance around. There were a lot of campfires. The baby toddled around between the nearest few, with Katara keeping a sharp eye out. "You have a strong force," he wrote. "Attacking soon?"

Yao shook his head once Sokka read that out. "We're regrouping, right now. Aang here convinced us it was better to leave the city to fight another day. We weren't exactly making a lot of headway where we were," he grimaced, "but once we regroup, we will fight for our homes!" He smacked a clenched fist against his palm for emphasis.

Zuko nodded. Honor demanded that a home should not be given up easily. If the positions were reversed, and it was the Fire Nation citizens who had lost their homes in a war, they would fight too. He still didn't know, however, how the Avatar planned to be involved in that fight, and whether he would make another dishonorable attack. He couldn't ask _that_ straight out, however. "How did so many of you leave the city – earthbending tunnels?" he asked instead. Maybe that was his way in, if he ended up needing one after all.

Sokka grinned widely. "Nope! They opened the gates for us!"

Zuko tilted his head, genuinely curious.

"My brother is a genius, sometimes," Katara announced. Her ironical tone didn't hide the very strong pride in her brother. Zuko felt another pang of envy that he needed to ignore.

"Oh yes, Bumi would be proud," the Avatar put in. To Zuko, he explained, "Bumi's a mad genius. I'm trying to think more like him, but I think it comes to Sokka naturally."

The Avatar, Sokka, and Katara interrupted each other excitedly as they told the tale of the pentapox plague. Zuko couldn't help but enjoy the tale, however much he disliked one of the tellers. He even found himself wishing for a moment he'd been there to see for himself, but that was stupid. He was just here to capture the Avatar. "You're probably lucky that pentapox sounds so much like pentsing pox," he wrote at the end, "but Katara, that was some quick thinking, and Sokka, you truly are a genius."

Sokka beamed proudly.

"Pentsing pox?" Yao asked. "What's that?"

"There was an epidemic of it a few years back that got bad. I don't know the details; there was a heavy quarantine." For weeks, he had not been allowed out of the palace, and inside it, he was forbidden from coming near anyone but the rest of the family. Considering the number of guards and servants in the palace, that had been a difficult restriction to follow. The plague had been confined to two distant islands, but his parents had been afraid that someone would try to strike at their family by deliberately infecting them – something about unrest and dissatisfaction on those islands. He still remembered how Mom examined him and Azula every day for the smallest patch of redness, and how she would hug them every time she saw nothing.

"I haven't heard of it. Did it happen far away from here?" Yao asked.

Zuko nodded. Of course Yao wouldn't have heard of it; why would he have paid attention to Fire Nation news?

Momo wandered back into their circle at that moment, as the baby chased his tail again. Momo escaped when the baby got distracted by Sokka's club and tried to suck on it.

Sokka snatched the club away. "No! Bad Fire Nation baby!"

The baby howled. Katara frowned at her brother, then actually whacked him lightly upside the head. "Oh, all right," Sokka gave in. The baby instantly stopped crying and started playing with the club. Obviously, he or she rarely needed to demand anything. Zuko's mind kicked into gear again. Those clothes were expensive, and soldiers usually didn't bring their families with them when attempting to occupy a city. Although that would explain why the baby had been left so unattended – an officer's child?

"Ooo, you're so _cute_!" Katara cooed at the baby and planted a kiss on one soft cheek.

Yao grimaced. "Sure. He's cute now, but when he's older, he'll join the Fire Nation army. You won't think he's so cute then. He'll be a killer."

Katara snatched the baby up and he dangled from her hands. "Does that look like the face of a killer to you?" she demanded. The baby began to pull at her gripping hands, but she didn't let him go.

Yao looked uncomfortable and said nothing. Zuko glanced at the baby, uneasy at the conversation. It sounded too much like his thoughts about the Avatar. Yao was right, the baby would probably grow up to be a soldier. Katara was right, he wasn't one now. Zuko felt torn between the desire to applaud Yao's respect for the Fire Nation's fighting prowess, and the indignant protest that they weren't killers. This war was a just one. They would see in time. Didn't the Earth Kingdom at least see them as honorable opponents? Was that how everyone justified the slaughter at the North Pole?

His pained thoughts were interrupted by the screech of a messenger hawk, which landed on a nearby rock. The Avatar retrieved the message. "It's from the Fire Nation governor. He thinks we kidnapped his son. So… he wants to make a trade. His son, for King Bumi."

"That's great!" Katara exclaimed. "Now we know whose baby he is, we can return him, and you don't need to look for Bumi anymore!"

So it _was_ that Bumi. Zuko had heard a number of rumors about the elderly king. Mad genius, huh?

Yao grumbled something under his breath that sounded surprisingly like, "Do we _want_ him back?" at the same time that Sokka warned, "Aang, this could be a trap."

The Avatar got mad. "I don't care how bad he was at defending the city. I want my friend back. I'm sure the governor feels the same way about his son."

"Take him with you when you leave, then," growled Yao. "He's no use to us. He'd just surrender again."

Zuko blinked at this new information. King Bumi surrendered? That didn't sound like something a mad genius would do. Something was odd, here. Did the king have a plan? If he'd known that the Avatar would come back to the city soon, the Avatar's close friend could… lull the occupiers into a false sense of security, then escape and let the Avatar unleash devastatation.

"Fine!" the Avatar yelled. "But we're doing this."

"Aang," Sokka protested. "It's the Fire Nation. We can't trust them. Why was the baby out by himself if they care about him so much?" Katara hugged the baby close to her chest at those words.

"We don't know that he was alone," the Avatar argued. "His nanny may have panicked at the sight of our legion of the sick, and dropped him or something."

"They should have hired a better nanny, then!" Sokka would not give up.

Zuko gestured for them to give him the scroll, since he was curious to see what he could discover for himself from the way it was written. "Cowardly kidnapper," it ran, "I agree to exchange your lowly King Bumi for" – he stopped breathing at the words "my son Tom-Tom's safety."

He flashed back to a picture – the only time Mai ever drew herself in her pictures to him, so he had stared at it for hours – of a young woman with an infant in her arms. It had been titled "Unexpected brother, Tomlin Shi Chey, better known as Tom-Tom." He hadn't paid much attention to the baby, to be honest. It was Mai's face which drew his eyes – the way she looked so much older and more self-assured after only one year – and more closed-off.

He, of course, couldn't write to anyone under the terms of his exile, and although it wasn't _completely_ forbidden, no one would dare write to him. Except Mai, who worked her way around the rules by sending him pictures a few times over the course of the years, whenever she could sneak a hawk out of her parents' mews.

It couldn't be Mai's brother, could it? It fit – the governor of a newly conquered city, Mai's father's ambitions, the unusual nickname, the age of the baby… Mai. Mai was in that city. He could see her. Face to face, after so long. Maybe speak with her… he had to try. No matter how dangerous, he had to try. Would she come to the hostage exchange? Whatever the Avatar planned, Zuko would stop him.

He came back to himself to realize that Katara was staring at him. "What is it?" she asked quietly, beneath the noise of the ongoing argument.

He reached over with the twig to tap on Sokka's arm. "What?" Sokka whirled on him.

"I think the governor is sincere," he wrote.

"Oh yeah? How do you know that?"

Because they just about crushed their daughter's spirit while trying for this son. Mai had always sought any excuse to stay at the palace as long as she could, so that she could avoid going home. They'd had so much fun together, then. "By the insults. A more calculating man would have left those out."

Sokka frowned and read the letter himself. "I guess that makes sense," he conceded reluctantly. "What if he calms down before tomorrow, though, and realizes his advantage?"

"That's why I'll go with you, but stay hidden," Zuko wrote. Information, a chance to meet Mai, an opportunity to stay close to the Avatar – it was perfect.


	12. The Making of Family

**A/N: **Thanks to Anonymous I for catching my error in Chapter 5! Of course Zuko shouldn't have known about King Bumi at that point – I've fixed it to a more generic "earthbender."

**A/N2:** Fair warning: this is about the point where updates will begin to come more slowly. (I do have more chapters written, but I'm not happy enough with them yet to post).

**Chapter 12**

Mai kept on high alert as she, Azula, and Ty Lee made their way to the rendezvous point. She didn't trust this resistance to keep their part of the bargain, but more than that, she was filled with foreboding over Azula's words. "Mai will handle the hostage trade so you don't have a chance to mess it up." What did Azula think her father would have done differently from her? Why was she not taking the lead as the princess, the highest-ranking person of their group? The answers which came to mind were not particularly comforting.

Two years of seeing her parents go crazy over the baby had not exactly endeared Tom-Tom to her, but she had to admit that wasn't his fault. He was slobbery and fouled his pants, but her parents assured her he would grow out of that. She looked forward to actually being able to talk to him soon, now that he had begun to pick up the rudiments of language. He still rarely spoke a word, and she didn't want him to grow up thinking that he should be silent all the time. She didn't want anything to happen to him. Since Azula couldn't see her from the back, Mai allowed the small frown to emerge in her expression.

When they arrived at the base of the statue, Mai examined the opposing trio (plus Tom-Tom). The oldest boy held her brother, there was another, younger boy, and there was a girl. They didn't look like hardened criminals of any sort, though they did resemble those kids she'd chased through the darkness. She could only see a few weapons amongst them; that didn't mean there weren't more, of course. The girl didn't carry any visible weapons, but Mai remembered the wall of ice which had stopped her darts and deduced that this was the waterbender. Probably the most dangerous person in their group, then. Mai resolved that the girl would be her target if it came to a fight.

"You brought my brother?" she asked. From this distance, she couldn't really tell if it was Tom-Tom, or if it was just a doll, or worse.

The youngest boy spoke up with unexpected firmness. "He's here. We're ready to trade."

Tom-Tom wriggled in the older boy's arms to let her know he was still alive. He looked comfortable there, so they probably hadn't hurt him. He wasn't crying as if hungry or soiled, either, so they must have taken care of him at least that much.

That was the point at which Azula interrupted. "I'm sorry, but a thought just occurred to me. Do you mind?"

Mai turned, keeping her voice pleasant. _Here we go._ "Of course not, Princess Azula."

"We're trading a two year old for a king. A powerful, earthbending king?"

King Bumi made a pleased sound in agreement.

"It just doesn't seem like a fair trade, does it?" Azula mused. She'd had this planned all along, yet didn't tell Mai. Mai squashed down every emotion; she could not afford those in order to get through this safely.

She took another look at Tom-Tom. Faintly, she could hear him coo. The children opposing her would continue to take care of him. Azula wouldn't, and wouldn't let Mai do so, either. This was her family's punishment, and a test of herself. A flash of disgust passed through Mai's careful shell – why couldn't Azula just leave off these endless tests of loyalty? Didn't she know already that Ty Lee and Mai would do what she asked? This wasn't the time to think on that, though. Mai knew what was expected of her. She stepped forward.

"You're right. The deal's off." A sharp, controlled gesture let the guards know to raise the metal coffin containing King Bumi again. Mai would retrieve Tom-Tom herself, later tonight. Unless Azula made them all leave before that time… Still, Tom-Tom would be safe for the present, and once Azula was gone, Mai was certain her father would try to negotiate again. It wasn't quite good enough, but it was the best chance her brother had.

All three of the children looked after the rising coffin. King Bumi laughed as if it was all a big joke. The youngest rushed forward with a cry of "Bumi!" (No title?) As if it weren't enough that the exchange had fallen through and he was helpless to stop that, Azula shot flame at him. Except in the next second he proved himself not so helpless, as he leapt to avoid the flame and then just spiraled upwards after the King.

"The Avatar!" she heard Azula breathe. Okay, so she had miscalculated the danger level of the boy, but Azula obviously wanted to go after him herself. Shrugging, Mai prepared herself to fight, as was expected of her.

"We've got to get the baby out of here!" she heard her target yell. The boy holding her brother called back "Way ahead of ya!" though she couldn't quite see what he was doing. The two of them ran for the edge of the platform, but Ty Lee swung underneath the platform and then punched up, tripping the boy. He fell, but managed to twist so as to end up on his back, Tom-Tom cradled safely in his arms. The girl held off Ty Lee with waterbending, and the boy escaped. Mai watched just long enough to be sure he got out of Ty Lee's range before she reentered the fight.

The girl was very good, blocking every attack that Mai sent. For now, Mai concentrated on probing for weaknesses.

There was a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. She whirled, daggers already flying, but the new arrival ducked underneath them as if he'd expected the move. Was that a mask? She danced aside as he tried to sweep her legs out from under her, but the distraction allowed the waterbender to encase her arm in ice. She swung at it with her other arm, but the newcomer caught it and wrenched it behind her back.

In the next second, Mai got the shock of her life. Fingers tapped across her palm. It wasn't random; she knew what it meant. Two fingers pressing down – "Wait." Three fingers tapping in sequence – "Follow me." One finger pressed down while another tapped twice – "Hiding place nearby." The message repeated. Mai and Zuko had invented this form of communication when they were children sneaking around the palace. No one else would know. But why was he fighting her?

She just had time for a single tap – "Okay" – before Ty Lee chi-blocked the waterbender and Mai's arm was free. Twisting, she threw Zuko off. He rolled further than she would have expected and swung underneath the platform. She understood now and brought her attention back to the girl. The waterbender looked horrified at being unable to raise more than a small wave from the puddle of water (it was extremely impressive all the same, given that most people weren't able to move at all after Ty Lee's treatment). Mai grinned and opened up her most vicious-looking throwing star. "How are you gonna to fight without your bending?" she taunted. Azula had taught her that pushing the enemy into despair could be as effective as any weapon.

A clang, and her throwing star was gone. "I seem to manage!" came the voice from above. Mai looked up just in time to see the older boy, now without Tom-Tom, riding an enormous flying animal. _No duh; are you too stupid to see that you're not the only non-bender in the vicinity?_ He caught some strange weapon out of midair, looking very pleased with himself. The animal landed between her and the waterbender and suddenly, Mai found herself tumbling uncontrollably, caught in a blast of air.

"Blue helped me out," she heard the girl's voice, getting fainter as they flew away. "I don't see him now, though."

"Probably hiding again. I don't think we –" she couldn't catch the rest.

Mai picked herself up and saw a flash of blue below the platform before it disappeared again. She didn't think that was accidental. "Try to see where the creature is going!" she called to Ty Lee. "I think I see the other one!"

Ty Lee nodded and began to somersault her way across the construction site. Mai took off. The flashes of blue led her down the road and inside a steep canyon. A few changes of direction served to confuse the matter, but at last she saw a clump of bushes. A branch shook. Mai took the invitation and crawled through. Behind the bushes, a curve in the canyon wall created a space big enough for two people to fit.

"Zuko? Is that really you?" She didn't know what to feel, after three long years.

He took the mask off for an answer, but seemed almost wary. Not wary; braced against something. His face might not be entirely familiar after three long years and the scarring, but his eyes were golden as always, and he looked at her. He always saw her. Her parents wanted a dutiful daughter. Azula wanted her to go along with Azula's schemes. Ty Lee followed Azula's lead, and her one bid for freedom in joining the circus ended with her right back in Azula's circle. Zuko was the only one who had ever asked Mai "What do you want to do?"

Three years of feeling that loss crashed upon her. She threw her arms around him. She needed to know he was real. She didn't cry. She wasn't used to crying anymore. Still, her whole body shook as she held him.

His arms came up around her hesitantly. Of course, he must think her weird for acting like this. She pulled back, embarrassed, but he didn't let her go. He looked at her questioningly, waiting for her to decide what she wanted.

It took her a little while, since she was out of practice, but she leaned back against him and slid her hand down to his. They had first developed a number of touch-expressions simply for sneaking around. They made up all the necessary signals, like "go left," "split up," "we'll need a distraction," and so on. Over time, however, a number of other expressions had crept into their vocabulary. Those were not as sharply defined, since they mostly made them up on the spur of the moment, to express the things neither had words for.

She squeezed his wrist and tugged down slightly. It meant something like "I know that you've been dealing with something difficult and it reminds me of something equally painful; let's sit together in silence so that the bad thoughts can't get us."

His left arm came around her for answer. That, too, was something from their childhood. He was right-handed. She was ambidextrous, but favored her left a bit, whenever she could forget her mother's reminders to use her right. So they used their off-hands for communication, and their good hands for things like dagger-throwing and easing doors open quietly. She wrapped her right arm around his waist and they sat down on the rocky ground as if three years hadn't passed.

When she leaned her head against his, he twitched with surprise, but didn't pull away. He did break the silence to ask, "You… don't mind?"

"Don't mind what?"

"The scar."

"Why would I?" she asked with exasperation.

"Oh, I don't know," he replied with sharp anger. "Maybe because most people do?"

There was a new harshness to his features, but she still thought he was the most handsome boy she had ever seen and her best friend. "Don't be an idiot," she told him. "It doesn't change anything."

"So many things have changed," he said quietly, warningly.

"They have. But not everything."

His cheek pressed more closely against hers. "I got all your pictures. I… they were wonderful. I drew some for you in return, but couldn't send them. Well, you know that; anyway, I was going to wait until I came home to show them to you, but now I can't, because they all got destroyed in the explosion… I'm sorry, Mai…"

She shoved him a little to stop him from babbling on. "You can always draw some more. You liked them? I thought they might be a bit stupid."

"No," he told her fervently. "No. I – you were the only one who ever sent anything to me. It meant a lot."

She didn't know how to respond to that. Perhaps it was unreasonable to expect no awkwardness, after three years. After a few minutes, she asked, "So what are you doing here?"

"Trying to capture the Avatar," he answered seriously.

"But you acted as if you were fighting together with his companions, and they didn't seem to find it strange. What's going on, Zuko?"

He sighed. "It's a long story. Basically, as long as I wear the mask and don't speak, they don't know it's me, and they kind of trust my alter ego. That makes it possible to track them closely. I still haven't figured out a way to capture the Avatar permanently; that's why I resorted to this. I came close a few times, but he keeps escaping."

"You've got all the soldiers you need up in Omashu," she pointed out. "Eh, maybe I should say New Ozai. Azula just renamed the city." Her tone was mild, but not without irony.

He snorted in agreement that Azula sometimes went too far. "Let's see how long that sticks. Anyway, I can't show myself to the Fire Nation Army. Somebody slandered Uncle Iroh and branded him a traitor. I helped him escape, so now I'm considered a traitor, too. I have to do this on my own to prove that I'm not and clear Uncle's name."

"What?"

"I hoped you knew something about who made the lie. You've heard of the failed attack on the North Pole, haven't you? They blamed Uncle for it. I don't know who, though."

"I've heard of the attack, yes, but I'm afraid that I knew nothing of this."

"Uncle's not a traitor. If it was anyone's fault, it was mine," he said bitterly. "If I hadn't hesitated, I might have restrained the Avatar long enough to stop the slaughter."

He still worried over everything; she couldn't say she was happy to see that. "Be sensible, Zuko. The Avatar is the Avatar. You might have delayed it, but if the entire Navy couldn't stop him, how could you?"

"Because that was one of the times I had him!" he nearly yelled. "I should have tied him up when I had the chance!"

"Ropes wouldn't stop me. Would ropes stop _you_?" she pointed out.

"Probably not."

"Then they wouldn't have stopped the Avatar, either," she said practically.

He sighed, neither quite agreeing nor disagreeing. "He doesn't look it, but he's really dangerous, Mai. I think he may be planning an attack on the city now. I'll do what I can to stop him, but…"

"If necessary, I'll warn everyone," she assured him. A horrible thought struck her. "Why did he kidnap Tom-Tom?" she demanded.

"From what I heard, there was no kidnapping. Tom-Tom somehow wandered out of the city on his own."

"Are you sure? The airbenders steal children, don't they? And my brother has grey eyes. What if the Avatar thinks he can make Tom-Tom into an airbender?"

Zuko sucked in his breath. "I'm quite sure he didn't take your brother intentionally, but I don't know if the idea has occurred to him now. I've been to all four of the air temples, but they didn't exactly write down their crimes. I still don't know if it's a legend or truth about them stealing children."

"It was one of the reasons Firelord Sozin attacked, didn't he? It's your family history."

"I know."

"Zuko," she warned, "I let them take Tom-Tom away because they seemed to be treating him well and I thought that either I would get him back, or they would return him eventually. I thought that would be okay, since Azula was against the hostage exchange. Just like visiting distant relatives before coming home. If he doesn't come back – it would kill my parents. I can't say I'd be happy about it either. I don't care how well they treat him, they can't just take him away! They can't just ignore the fact that he has a family already."

Zuko pulled away a little so that he could turn to look her in the eye. "I'll find out their intentions and I will bring Tom-Tom back myself, if I have to."

She exhaled and gave a brief nod. "Good. You know you can count on me, too, if necessary."

"Okay. We ought to agree on a meeting spot and time."

Mai nearly bit her lip. "Oh, Spirits, I almost forgot. Azula wants me to go with her and Ty Lee on a mission. I don't know when she's leaving, but I suspect it will be soon."

"What mission?"

"She didn't say; I was just glad to get out of here, so I didn't ask." Her eyes widened just a fraction. "Why wouldn't she have told me, unless… it's something to do with you and your uncle, probably."

"Or the Avatar, which would still play against me, but I think you're right," he agreed heavily. "Are you – going to refuse to go?"

She gave this some thought. "You track the Avatar by staying close to him. I can best track Azula by staying close to her." I won't give you away, she didn't say, but knew he understood. The warmest of smiles lit up his face.

"See if you can find out anything about who slandered Uncle, okay?"

"I will. Unless we run into each other again, however, without Azula being too close, I won't be able to get the information to you."

He gave her a very warm glance indeed. "I really hope we do."

"Me too." A half-forgotten tendency to blush crept back upon her. "Well, on the unlikely chance that both of us can make it – here, tomorrow at dusk?" He nodded. "If you need to warn those in the city, the guards around the statue are among the more dedicated of our people. If you could deliver an anonymous letter to them, they'd pass it along."

"Thank you," he said, heartfelt. "That shouldn't be too difficult," he smirked a little.

"Really?" she asked with mock surprise. "That blue mask really stands out."

"Only when I want it to," he proclaimed.

"Do you – wear it to hide the scar?" she asked quietly.

"No!" he seemed angry. "I'm not a coward. I've never hidden my face because of that. It's only because right now, I need a disguise."

"Good," she said simply. "I didn't think you would, but you carried on about it at the beginning of our conversation, so…"

He looked away. "I know it's ugly, and you're so –" he swallowed, "and you seemed to – like me, before."

"I did," she said with a hint of a smile in her voice. "Even when I threw mud in your face. Mud is ickier than any scar. That hasn't changed."

His eyes got very wide (well, one eye more than the other). "You mean it?"

For answer, she kissed him. He responded instantly, and they clutched at each other, only breaking apart when they couldn't breathe anymore.

"I've changed," he whispered, in between trying to catch his breath, their foreheads pressed together. "I don't know who I could be to you. My time is not my own."

"That's all right," she said bleakly. "I don't know who I could be, either. My time has never been my own. I don't even know enough to know whether I've changed."

He looked up at her again, his arms tight around her. "That's not a good starting point for either of us."

"If I wanted an easy life, I'd be everything my parents want me to be," she shrugged.

They shared another intense kiss. When they broke apart, she put her hand on the scarred side of his face. "You're not ugly."

"You must have met a lot of boys," he muttered darkly.

"I did. My mother has been pushing me to meet them."

He looked very unhappy at that. "Is there someone?"

"No," she said simply. She'd dated a few boys, because she knew it would be stupid to wait forever for someone who might not return, or find someone else on his travels. All of them had been supremely boring, however.

He searched her face with his gaze. She realized that for once, he didn't quite believe her. That hurt. So she said something she never expected to reveal quite so easily.

"The way you got that scar – it was the most courageous thing I had ever seen. Why would I think it was ugly?"

His mouth hung open. That wasn't entirely attractive, but oh, well. She closed it for him.

"But, but," he protested, "how can you say that?"

"Because it's true. Because you knew what your father was going to do, and you faced up to him anyway." He shook his head, but she pressed on inexorably. "You didn't want to believe it, but you knew. Isn't that right?"

He tried to shake his head again, but it was more like a nod, and something like hope began to lighten his eyes.

"Knowing it," her voice had gone a bit hushed, "you stood up to him. You didn't play out the role he wanted you to play. You followed what you believed was right."

He seemed speechless. Eventually, he whispered, "It was dishonorable. Weak."

"What would I know of manly honor, you mean?" she said with all the scorn she could muster, which was quite an amount. "He ordered you to fight when it wasn't the right thing to do. He used the rules against you, and you called him on it. I know exactly how much strength that takes." _I don't have that strength, after all,_ she thought bleakly. She didn't quite lose hope, however, that one day, she would find it. If Zuko, who had always tried to please his father, could find it, maybe she could, too.

He was going to protest some more, she could see it. With a roll of her eyes, she announced, "Geez, learn to take a compliment." It served its purpose and broke the stalemate. Zuko could believe it was just something she said, if he wanted. However, she had spoken the truth. Perhaps he would see that, eventually.

"I should probably go," she said reluctantly. "Azula and Ty Lee will want to know what took me so long as it is. Then I'll have to explain to my parents why I don't have Tom-Tom."

"Yeah, I'm going to face similar sorts of questions," he agreed quietly. His hand found hers again and tightened around it. She knew what he meant; she didn't want to go, either.

"I'll find out about your uncle, and I'll distract Azula if I can."

A look of gratitude passed across his face. He was so easy to read, unlike most of the other members of nobility. Unlike herself. "I'll get Tom-Tom back to your parents, and I will capture the Avatar," he stated in his turn.

They kissed – a brief and gentle kiss this time. A promise of more to come, if they could manage to meet again. They weren't children anymore, however. The things they felt at this simple contact were profound. Then they parted.

* * *

><p>Zuko could barely think as he made his way back to the resistance camp. Mai's sheer presence alone had knocked him for a loop, and that was before the kisses, and what she said to him… She meant it, and he had always trusted her judgment, but how could she? Didn't she know his father was right to do this to him?<p>

_You knew what he would do. You didn't want to believe it, but you knew._

Had he?

Cautiously, he picked at the never-healed scab of that day. The feel of Mai's cheek pressed against his scarred one so casually lent him strength. He'd known his father would fight him. That had been clear. That was why he had gotten on his knees. It was cowardice. It was a refusal to fight for his honor.

It was a refusal to fight his father. He couldn't strike at someone he loved. Father could. That was what made him stronger and better than Zuko. He was willing to do what must be done.

There had been times in the past when Zuko had imagined having a child someday. The image had been fuzzy, of course, but he assumed it would happen eventually, as these things did. He had tried to nerve himself up to be the kind of father who could teach the harshest of lessons. He wanted to be as strong as his own father, when that moment came. He would do it, despite any bile rising in his throat; he was sure he would. He wouldn't let this weakness stop him, when the time came.

_You called him on it._

Would the child feel the same desperate calm that Zuko had felt in the moment before the fire struck? That odd sensation which made him lift his head, even while tears kept streaming down his cheeks, and look straight at his father? Would Zuko break at that gaze? He must not, and yet… _you stood up to him. You did what was right._

Other voices joined Mai's voice. _They're warrior's scars. That counts, no matter what. I know it feels terrible, whatever you did, but… In our family, things are not always what they seem._

His father's voice, kind and gentle, heard through the haze of pain and medicines. _Zuko, do you understand now why I had to do it?_

His own voice. _You don't know how my father feels about me._

For the first time, Zuko really asked himself whether Uncle would ever have done that to Lu Ten. He'd assumed that of course, if it had been necessary, Uncle would, not that Lu Ten would ever give him cause. Uncle said that he thought of Zuko like a son. He would have done the same thing father did, if it had been him Zuko disrespected, although his uncle's definition of respect was more lenient. That was how fathers were. They had to be strong for their children.

Now that he really asked, however, the answer stared him in the face. No, Uncle wouldn't. Never. As much as they got on each other's nerves sometimes… no. As much as Zuko would have liked to believe that he had never disrespected his uncle, he knew he had. Mostly, Uncle had responded with patience. Maybe it was the wrong way; maybe that was why he kept hurting Uncle. It would be better if Uncle burned him, too, to help him learn. Zuko could not help but be grateful, however, that it hadn't happened so far.

He couldn't believe that Dad had been wrong, but the certainty of his father's rightness, which had carried him through so much pain, had been shaken, and he was shaking with it.

His feet had carried him back to the campfire and he sank down in front of it, instinctively seeking its comfort. Warm fires all around. Warm people. Dimly, he heard the worried exclamations of the others. The weight of a blanket settled around his shoulders. He buried his masked face in his hands and tried to calm down.

* * *

><p>Katara knew she had to get answers out of Blue, but so far, he had not responded to anything. In her desperation, she even coated her hands with healing water and ran it down his back, since he was so out of it. She should have spent more time with Yugoda. How did this go, again?<p>

His energy seemed tangled and frayed, but there were no tell-tale breaks that a wound would leave. This could even be normal for him; perhaps his scars had left those marks. "I can't see anything distinct," she reported to the others. "He seemed fine when he fought the knife girl."

"Combat exhaustion sometimes takes people that way," Yao commented.

Aang shook his head. "Not unless he came across a whole platoon in the past hour, and we would've seen some signs of that. I've seen how he is after a difficult fight against overwhelming odds. It wasn't anything like this."

Yao shrugged helplessly. They all stood around some more. Eventually, the shaking slowed. Momo leapt in front of Blue and chirruped worriedly up into his face. Very slowly, Blue reached out a hand to stroke Momo's head. Katara took that as a good sign. "What happened?" she asked again.

Blue finally looked around. Katara pushed a twig towards him. "Nothing," he wrote.

"That didn't look like nothing," she argued angrily.

He insisted again that nothing happened, circling the words for emphasis. They went back and forth like this for a few more rounds before he finally gave in and wrote, "It wasn't anything present. Just difficult memories. Sorry to make you worry over nothing."

Her temper flared. "Oh, yeah, you're really sorry. Since it was _nothing_, what do you have to be sorry for?"

He just shook his head.

"Katara, leave him be," Yao put in. "He doesn't have to talk about it if he doesn't want to."

"Not like he ever talks about anything," she muttered.

"Katara, you know that's not fair," Aang protested. "He's told us a number of things already. When he's ready, he'll tell us more."

A small choked sound escaped from Blue. "I don't have to stand for this," he scrawled. He rose and began to walk away. Katara wondered how she could call him back, but after only a few steps, he stopped anyway and reluctantly walked back to the campfire. Katara hoped that was a good sign, but the tense set of his shoulders told her it wasn't.

"I'm not going to pry anymore," she apologized. "Want some soup?"

He shook his head and her mouth tightened. Not again.

"Later," he wrote, and she relaxed a little.

They all sat down around the fire. Something tickled at the back of Katara's mind. After a few moments, she identified it. Blue kept himself turned subtly away from Aang, and why had he exploded at that extremely innocuous comment earlier, anyway? Something was wrong between those two, but what could it possibly be?

"Well, if you're done freaking out," Sokka announced cheerfully (and expertly avoided the glare Katara sent his way), "mind holding the baby for a bit? I've got to mash up some of these veggies from the soup for him."

Blue shrugged and reached up to take the baby. By the way he held him, she could tell he hadn't done this much, but soon enough, he had the baby held securely across his chest and one hand lightly patted the boy's back. Blue was like Sokka, she thought. Both boys were awkward with the baby at first, but after the initial adjustment, just took over, at least for the fun parts. Sokka had practically been carrying the baby around all day and playing with him. Of course, diaper duty was still left to her, as was the messy process of feeding after Sokka's first attempt ended with him covered in bright orange mush. She still got the better part of the bargain, in her opinion. A few minutes of unpleasantness at a time versus having to pay attention all the time? No contest. Sokka's wife could deal with making him do the not-so-fun stuff when he had one.

Aang was pretty quiet tonight, too. "What's on your mind?" she asked him.

He sighed. "Just the stuff I told you before. If Bumi doesn't want to be rescued, but wants to wait and listen for the right moment, I should trust him, right?"

"But in the meantime, he's still confined in a metal box, surrounded by Fire Nation soldiers," she finished the thought for him.

"Yeah." He sighed heavily again.

She squatted beside him and patted him on the shoulder. "Aang, I know it's hard to wait, but I'm sure he can take care of himself. If he can still earthbend even from the inside, then if they try anything, he'll break himself out."

"Yeah, but I don't know how he can stand it!" Aang burst out. "I'd go mad!"

"Well, you're an airbender, and freedom is important to airbenders, right?" He nodded. "Earthbenders, on the other hand, probably _like_ to be enclosed, judging by how many of their cities have high walls around them."

"The Northern City had a wall; it just makes sense for a city," Aang argued. At least he was listening to her. She could work with that.

"Yes, but Aang, you remember how waterbenders raise and lower the walls, and allow water to flow between sections? Yao, isn't it right that earthbenders don't mind enclosed spaces?"

"Broadly speaking, yes," he said.

"Yeah. Maybe you're right," Aang acknowledged. He still looked downcast, though.

"I'll tell you what," she offered. "I can make a small cake. When you return the baby tonight, you just fly up to Bumi's box and give it to him. It'll be from all of us, telling him that we appreciate what he's going through."

Aang brightened up. "That's a great idea! Bumi used to love nut-paste cakes so much, I don't think he stopped in a hundred years. Not that it really makes up for what he's going through, but it's something. Thanks, Katara!" He hugged her, and she hugged him back.

"No problem," she murmured against his bald head.

"What exactly _is_ he going through?" Yao snorted. "They feed him, you're about to give him _cake_ of all things, and all he has to do is hang about and do nothing."

"He's _waiting _and_ listening_ for the right moment," Aang retorted. "You think it's easy to wait? Especially when everyone is as scornful as you are? When the moment comes, he'll show what he can do."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Yao cut in flatly.

Aang muttered something under his breath. Katara glared at the Resistance leader for good measure. Yao raised a hand in a half-hearted peace-making gesture. "Right, he's your friend. Whom you haven't seen in a hundred years, but who you are absolutely sure is still your friend. I'm not going to say another word."

Katara winced. "Aang, he did make you do all those crazy and dangerous tasks, when you first met again," she noted uncertainly. Personally, as much as she trusted Aang, she never wanted to end up encased in crystal again, and with Bumi, there would never be a guarantee. "Are you really sure he knows what he's doing?"

"For the hundredth time, yes!" Aang yelled. A fierce gust of wind nearly knocked both her and Yao over.

"Whoa!" she yelped. Aang stopped, with a sheepish expression on his face. A baby's cry sounded, and they all turned to look at the sight which greeted them. Blue, who had apparently volunteered to feed the baby while she had been otherwise occupied, was awkwardly wiping off the toddler's face with a cloth. Blue himself was covered in the remains of the baby's meal. Sokka hadn't quite escaped the effects, either, and the moment he looked down at himself, started doing his usual wriggle-dance and yelling for someone to "get it off!" By contrast, Blue seemed pretty unconcerned about it, and Katara gave a silent sigh of relief that at least someone besides herself could act maturely around here. She sluiced off everybody with her water, and Aang dried them off with air. The baby started giggling after that. He squirmed in Blue's grip and raised his little arms towards Aang, clearly demanding another wind blast.

Aang grinned and obliged, but suddenly, Blue rolled out of the way, the baby clutched securely in his arms. He almost seemed to be trying to – shield the baby with his own body?

The baby was happy enough with the sudden movement, but Aang scratched his head. "Lee, I was just trying to entertain him," he explained.

Slowly, Blue uncurled. His twig made deep furrows in the earth as he scratched out fiercely, "Were you? Didn't I hear something about how you would return him? Are you going back on your word?"

Aang's mouth fell open. Katara and Sokka were almost as astonished. "Lee, what's gotten into you?" Katara asked, her voice overlapping Aang's, who protested, "Of course I'm not going back on my word! I was just playing with him before then!"

Blue immediately replied, "Odd form of playing."

"He seemed to like it!" Aang was getting angry.

"Seriously, did you get hit on the head or something?" Sokka put in. "You don't really think Aang would ever harm the baby?"

The silence after stretched an uncomfortable length. When the toddler started squirming again, Blue finally wrote, "Oh, he wouldn't mean to, but I'm not sure we share the same definition of harm."

"You've gone crazy," Katara stated definitively. Sokka made a noise of agreement. Aang just stared.

Eventually, in a small voice, Aang asked, "What?"

Blue shook his head, but it didn't seem to be a negation. Instead, he resettled the baby against him, and wrote, "I know you want to keep him, but it's not right. He doesn't belong to you. Give him back, or I'll make you."

"You're definitely crazy," Sokka breathed.

Katara stepped between Blue and Aang. She thought she probably had the best chance of handling this. "Blue, stop a moment," she said reasonably. "What in the world gave you the idea that Aang wanted to keep the baby? What would we do with him?"

Blue shrugged, but the words obviously gave him pause. "I don't know," he wrote. "From what I heard, though, stealing children is as natural to the Air Nomads as breathing."

Pandemonium broke out as they all began to yell across each other at Blue. Aang eventually won out – Katara was pretty sure he used airbending to amplify his voice. "That's a lie!" he roared.

"I thought that was just a 'be good or else' story for the kids," Yao murmured into the resulting brief quiet, and they were off again.

Blue wrote something again, and his free hand now rested on the hilt of his dagger. Sokka approached cautiously to read it. "He says that, in that case, how come you don't remember your own father and mother? I gotta say, Aang, I wondered about that, too."

"All Air Nomad children were raised by monks rather than their parents," Aang explained, still breathing hard but comparatively calmer. "Being an Air Nomad means giving up worldly attachments."

It was Katara's turn to sputter. "Aang, that's horrible. If our parents ever gave up their 'worldly attachments' – well, they wouldn't. Ever. It's not right. They loved us."

"Even if they hadn't, you can't just ignore who your children are," Sokka nodded.

"I know my parents loved me," Aang protested. "Love means doing the right thing, like letting the entire Air Nomad family take care of your children instead of selfishly keeping them to yourself. Two people aren't enough. They would just mess things up."

"Aang, you ran away because they were going to take _one _person away from you," Katara pointed out softly. "You didn't want the 'entire Air Nomad family.' You wanted Gyatso."

"If I stayed with my parents, I never would have met Gyatso," Aang said, but he sounded uncertain.

Blue waved the twig for attention and wrote, "Family sticks together, always. Real parents don't give up their children so easily. So I ask, how do you even know that your parents were Air Nomads and you weren't stolen?"

"Like you would know; you don't seem to have exactly stuck by your family," Aang growled. Blue visibly flinched at those words, and his hands dropped by his sides defenselessly.

"Aang, that wasn't kind. Blue, if the rest of the Air Nomads were anything like Aang, then of course they wouldn't steal children."

"I don't know," said Yao. Katara almost startled; she'd forgotten about him. "Where did all the legends come from, then? They say if you have a grey-eyed child, lock him indoors and never let anybody see him until he's five, or he might vanish into the air one day."

Blue rallied and pointed at the baby's eyes. The baby seized upon his finger and tried to pull it towards his mouth. Blue resisted, although obviously not too hard. The baby giggled at the new game of keep-away.

Yao walked around to face the baby and crouched down to look. "What do you know. Grey."

"Surely that doesn't actually happen in reality," Katara argued.

"Not that I've heard of," Yao acknowledged. "Of course, no one's seen an airbender in a hundred years. We don't know how it was before then."

"You're all horrible," Aang declared with tears in his eyes. "Give me the baby. It's going to be dark soon; I'll return him now. And the Air Nomads _never_ stole children. Never."

"I believe you, Aang," Katara said firmly.

"Do you?" he asked bitterly. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

"Aang, it does –"

"Well, I'm the last one, aren't I? My culture will die with me, and no one will ever know how it really was. People will believe this – this _filth_. Just leave me alone."

"It won't happen like that, Aang," she said firmly.

He ignored her and stalked over to Blue, who gave the baby to Aang with some reluctance. Aang stalked away to pick up the sling and wrap the baby to his body securely, then flew away silently. Katara watched him until he was out of sight.

"Well," she turned to Blue angrily, "I hope you're happy. How you could say those things to Aang, I have no idea."

"What does being happy matter?" he wrote. "I couldn't take the chance."

She snorted and strode away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sokka sit down and begin to sharpen his boomerang in silence. Apparently, he had no more idea of what to do now than she did.

She could do one thing, though. Aang forgot about the cake, but she could have it ready for him when he got back. If she could find the ingredients, that is. The field kitchen was in the middle of the camp, and she could ask the cooks there.

She was in luck – they had nuts and even syrup, though of course they couldn't spare much. No rose water, but she could improvise. A bit of rice flour to stretch out the nut paste, a picken egg for the egg white, some spices – it might not be the kind of nut-cake Bumi was used to, but it would taste good. She gathered everything up and returned to their fire, where she began the difficult work of shelling and grinding the nuts into paste. Her muscles hurt, but it was a good outlet for her anger and frustration.

Blue tried to come over and help, but she gestured for him to leave. "Don't bother her now," she heard Sokka hiss softly. Blue shrugged and backed away. Judging by Sokka's further words, Blue had asked him about what happened between Aang and Bumi today. Sokka answered shortly, and Blue quickly got the hint to leave him alone, too. Yao wandered off to speak with the other Earth Kingdom people. It got very quiet around their campfire, but for the sound of her pestle and an occasional squeak from Momo whenever she stopped him from stealing a nut.

Night fell. Katara finally finished grinding the nuts and began to beat the egg white together with the syrup. She had never really liked this part; it always took so long, no matter how hard she worked. Minute after minute passed with no sign of peaks forming in the white foam. Then a whooshing sound alerted her, and she looked up to see Aang land. He seemed a lot calmer now, and he even smiled a little.

She dropped the stripped twigs she had been using to beat the eggs. "Everything all right?" she asked anxiously.

"Yes," Aang nodded. "They were so happy to have their baby back! It was really nice to see." Aang's eyes flicked over to Blue. "I didn't really believe his family would care, not after the way his sister just threw him away callously, but his parents – they were so sad, and they were clutching each other and staring out into the city like they could spot him any moment, and they were so happy and ran to pick him up – they really love him."

Blue snorted a bit, which didn't help matters, but Aang restrained his temper. "Anyway, he's back with his parents, and I get why you didn't know any better, since you never met any real Air Nomads. Just – do you believe me now?"

Blue came to the fire to write. "I was wrong to assume that you would do that to a child," he wrote. Aang grinned, but Blue wasn't done. "I'm still not sure about the rest of your people, though. You were young when you left. Maybe they just didn't tell you."

Aang's fists clenched. "The monks taught us that to lie was a sign of unhealthy worldly attachments. If you are truly enlightened, you do not need to gain whatever petty self-interested thing you think you'll get from lying. They told me who my parents were, and they wouldn't lie about it."

Blue nodded slowly, though Katara got the sense he still wasn't entirely convinced. She figured this was a good time to break things up.

"We're all tired," she said, "and it's difficult to think clearly when tired. Blue, whatever happened today, you shouldn't have taken it out on Aang. Let's all get some sleep. Aang, are we leaving in the morning?"

"Yes. Let's not delay any more and look for the earthbending teacher like Bumi said."

"Then we should all get some rest."

"Fine by me," Sokka mumbled with a yawn.

Blue wrote, "If you are still headed to Gaoling, I need to get there too."

"Are we?" Sokka asked Aang.

"Well, it's still the best option, isn't it?" Aang sighed. "Lee, you can come. I still owe you."

Blue started to shake his head, but Aang interrupted. "Don't say it. If I didn't owe you, I'd be tempted to leave you behind."

Blue's head jerked indignantly, but then he dropped his gaze. "I'll sleep over there," he pointed somewhere into the darkness. "I'll be back shortly after sunrise."

Katara hurried to fill a bowl of soup from the pot. He took it with a nod of thanks and left. "That was really kind of you," she told Aang quietly. "Given how angry he made you, it must have taken a lot to forgive him."

Aang made an unhappy noise. "Katara? Do they have those legends in the Water Tribe?"

"No," she said firmly.

"But your tribe was pretty much cut off from the rest of the world," he seemed unable to let go of the thought. "Here in the Earth Kingdom, everyone…" he couldn't finish.

"They're just stupid legends. I'm sure most people don't actually believe them," she tried to reassure him.

"Some do," he said bitterly. "It wasn't enough to kill us. They're killing our good name."

"Aang," she took a deep breath, "the Air Nomads don't have to die. In fact, I'm pretty sure that you'll do something to make that happen. Otherwise, how could the Avatar cycle continue, with one whole element missing?"

"I know, I know, but how?" He paced around in circles and clutched at his nonexistent hair. "What, am I supposed to have tons of kids? Who's going to raise them? Also, it can't be healthy if all the Air Nomads end up related to each other. And I'm _not_ going to steal children."

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "But you'll find a way. The flying bison were the first airbenders, right? Maybe after the war is over, you can set up a school with Appa as the head teacher."

That made him smile a bit. "What do you think, Appa? Would you like to be Sifu Appa?"

The bison lowed in response. Aang's smile widened. "Thought so."

"If you do have kids," Katara continued, "you can learn to be a parent to them, like the rest of us. Honestly, I'm not sure you should keep that bit of tradition."

Aang shook his head. "You wouldn't understand."

"You're right, I don't." She wasn't able to keep the bitterness out of her voice entirely. Ever since Aunt Wu's prediction combined with Sokka's offhand remark, she had sometimes wondered if… but no. If he didn't want to be a father to his children, then he was not the boy for her. No matter that he was the nicest boy she had ever met, and cute, and smart, and amazing… stop it. No one could survive without family. Her future husband would also be a father. Her future children deserved that much.

"Katara, I was _happy_."

"If Gyatso was your real father, no one would dare suggest that you should be separated."

"You think so?" he asked, rather wistfully.

"Yeah," she sighed. "In the Water Tribe, at least, that's how it would work. I don't know about the Air Nomads."

Aang didn't answer. Katara looked at her bowl of egg white and groaned. "Oh, no! I have to start all over again!"

"Hmm?" he leaned over to look. "What were you trying to do?"

"I have to beat this until it foams and peaks start forming from the foam," she explained as she began whipping her twigs through the liquid. "It always takes so long, and you can't stop, or it all just collapses back in on itself."

"Oh! I think I can help with that! That's almost the same thing that Gyatso did to make his cakes! He taught me his secret move – allow me," he extended a hand.

She couldn't say no to that smile. "Show me."

In seconds, the egg white whirled into a cone, and foam began to form. Aang let go, and the cone collapsed. Aang's smile collapsed along with it, but Katara's bloomed. "Yes! You had it! Just keep doing that a while longer."

He obliged and she watched carefully. "Try letting it go now," she said after two minutes.

The foam stayed in a perfect peak.

"Thanks, Aang!" she set the bowl aside carefully and hugged him. "I hate that job. Maybe you should become a chef right along with me."

He squeezed her tightly. "It'd be my pleasure," he said, then pulled back, suddenly blushing for some reason. "Umm, I…"

She didn't pay much attention to his odd behavior, as she wanted to get this thing done and get to sleep. "Not too much longer now," she told him. "I just need to combine all these things and bake the cake a little." With careful motions, she began to fold the egg white into the nut paste, sprinkling the mixture with a bit of cold water as she went along to keep the stickiness to a manageable level.

He watched her. "Katara, you get people pretty well. What do you think it would take to make people stop believing that legend?"

She gave this some thought. "I'm not really sure," she admitted. "I think, however, that seeing real, live airbenders wandering the world again while obviously not stealing any children would go a long way towards dispelling it. You saw the way Blue, even when he was half-hysterical, admitted in the end that he didn't think you yourself would do such a thing. That's because he can see you – you, Aang, not a myth, but a real person."

Aang nodded unhappily. "No quick solutions, then? Nothing like, say, putting up posters?"

"No," she said gently. "People would say 'it's only words.' They have to see what Air Nomads are really like."

"Blue still believed it at first," Aang argued.

"I know this doesn't make anything easier, but… I don't think his reactions were really about you."

"What do you mean?"

"I think he was still under the influence of those bad memories. In fact," something occurred to her, "he acted a bit weird yesterday, too, right after reading the ransom note. Judging by his reactions, I think that maybe, this somehow hits too close to home for him. Perhaps he had been kidnapped once, or someone in his family was." She finished her mixing and set the cake on an iron plate over the fire. It was no stove, but it would have to do.

"Really?" Aang blinked. "Wouldn't he just say so, then?"

"Who knows? Maybe it has something to do with the way he was hurt. He might have been taken away from his family and imprisoned until he managed to escape, in fact. I heard that some captors try to convince people to change sides. Maybe they did that to him, before they hurt him." Maybe it also had to do with the dagger girl, she thought. Cruel, to do that to her own brother. That could certainly have triggered a memory, and those knives… those knives could be a bad memory, too. How exactly had they taken away his voice? She tried not to shiver.

"But then, when would he have had the opportunity to try to protect people?"

"That doesn't fit," she admitted. "But I do get the sense that he knows more than he is saying about this whole situation." At his questioning look, she added, "Just a hunch."

"All right. Maybe Bumi was righter than even he knew. Maybe I need to use neutral jing for this, too, until the right moment." He yawned.

"Sounds reasonable. Get some sleep. These issues won't resolve from you staying up too late, you know," she teased.

"No, you're right. Oh, that is starting to smell good. Sometime when we have more ingredients, will you bake that for all of us?"

"Of course, but only if you help with the egg whites!" She flipped the cake to another side, happy to see that it also looked exactly right.

"It's a deal!" He paused. "Be sure to keep this well-wrapped and away from Momo, or Bumi won't even get a taste."

"I'm on it," she smiled. He really was the nicest boy she ever met. It was a pity…


	13. Swamp's Illusions: Who You Are

**Chapter 13**

After an abbreviated round of exercises in the morning, Zuko made his way over to Appa, then waited while the others finished breakfast and Aang delivered the cake to King Bumi. He was still exhausted from yesterday and his head pounded. He'd accomplished two of his tasks – Tom-Tom had been returned, and he had found out that the Avatar would not attack the city, at least not at this time. The greater tasks still remained, however. The conversation he'd overheard between Katara and the Avatar after they thought he'd left didn't help. Whose side was Katara on, anyway? And what did she mean about the Avatar being a 'real person'? Zuko knew better than that, so he couldn't have let such mush influence him. Yet he did seem to feel instinctively that this Avatar would not kidnap a child. How did he know that?

The previous night's conversation had actually helped him find a way out of his dilemma regarding his father. Father had been right, even if he might have gone a bit too far. That was not a new thought – Zuko had often wondered whether his father had only meant to singe him a little and just didn't know his own strength. It seemed plausible. To be a father was to care about your children, and to punish them as appropriate. One could abandon all responsibility for one's children and be no better than the Air Nomads. Zuko had been away from home for only three years, and it nearly killed him every day. He didn't want to be like the Avatar, who didn't care that he had never known his parents.

The atmosphere in the group became noticeably tense when he rejoined them, and since he didn't have the slate anymore, he couldn't really participate in their conversations. That was fine by him; the anger that continued to roil through him would have probably had him saying something stupid, otherwise. The lack of Sokka's easy companionship, however, grated on him, as did Katara's, to a lesser extent. He hadn't realized that he'd looked forward to that quite so much. He stayed in his corner of the saddle and tried not to draw attention to himself. A plan for capturing the Avatar was still the main necessity, so he tried to think of something. Not much came to mind, except that perhaps he could pay off an earthbender to encase the Avatar in rock before the Avatar learned earthbending. That might work, except what if the Avatar called on the destructive power of the spirits to free himself? Could he risk it?

He went back and forth on that one until he was too exhausted to think anymore. The high and bare plateaus beneath them began to give way to slope-sided grassy canyons, then to sparse forests. They camped for the night in yet another forest clearing. Sokka invited him along to go fishing so that they wouldn't have only vegetable stew for supper again. They chatted a bit, since the clay of the riverbank provided a pretty good writing surface. Sokka spoke more tersely than usual, but didn't seem as angry as before. Although Zuko embarrassed himself terribly with his horrible fishing skills, it was still more comfortable than being around the rest of them.

As they walked back with their catch, Sokka shook his head. "Man, how did you survive all these years? I really hope you're a better hunter than a fisherman." Sokka had five good-sized fish strung on his line. Zuko had one small fish – and one minnow.

In response to the question, he nodded and jerked his head to the side. He probably would be better at hunting if he tried. He was a prince. He didn't need to catch his dinner.

"Guess that's why you're used to not eating much," Sokka sympathized. "Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it."

They told stories around the campfire. Katara tried to get a story from him, but even she had to give up when it became obvious that waiting for him to write it out sentence by sentence took too long. Zuko was glad. Telling stories was Uncle's thing, not his.

It was almost the same the next day, except that Sokka joined him for morning exercises. "You aren't doing as much of the crazy stuff as you did before, so I might actually keep up somewhat – does it have something to do with you nearly dying?" Zuko nodded. "That sucks."

"I'm working my way back at a good pace," he wrote after they finished. "You're not too bad yourself."

Sokka rocked back on his heels with a proud grin. "Oh, watch yourself! In a week or two, you're going to be the one struggling to catch up with me!"

The Avatar was voluble with his friends, but continued to ignore Zuko's presence, which was fine by Zuko. This time, as they flew, Sokka occasionally involved him in a round of twenty questions, though Zuko had to be the challenger each time. Zuko did his best to come up with interesting things to guess, and apparently, succeeded. At least, he thought he did, since Sokka smiled a lot more during the game.

Maybe it had something to do with Sokka's smiling and his pleasure after the morning compliment, but Katara invited him to watch the waterbending practice in the evening. Zuko accepted. She threw herself into teaching the Avatar and mostly ignored him, but when he tried imitating her stances, she would occasionally toss out a comment that allowed him to correct himself. Zuko paid careful attention to the counters the Avatar and Katara used and wished for the privacy to experiment with transforming them into fire counters. Since he didn't have it, he memorized the movements as best he could.

By the third day, the tension had halfway subsided, but Zuko still kept his head low. His own blazing anger had subsided, too, but he knew it was simply banked down so as not to burn out too soon. When he prodded himself, it would simmer up again reassuringly, so he didn't need to prod much. Katara asked him to carve a few new sets of chopsticks with his dagger, as theirs had gotten somewhat worn, and he had accepted. His first few tries were adequate, but not as good as he'd have liked. Fortunately, he had a good supply of wood and time to work on it. He whittled down the newest stick idly.

Katara herself sat reading a scroll – she'd said something about figuring out the Avatar's next lesson. Sokka sharpened his boomerang with care. The Avatar steered Appa with none of his usual chatter.

Sokka's voice suddenly interrupted Zuko's somnolent state. "Hey, you taking us down for a reason?" Zuko looked up to see Sokka leaning over the front of the saddle as he addressed the Avatar. The ground did seem a lot closer than before. "Aang!" Sokka called more urgently when the Avatar didn't respond.

"What?" he startled. "I didn't even notice."

It turned out that the Avatar thought that the swamp "called" to him. Either he imagined it, or, being the Avatar, he actually did hear something without being careful enough. A friendly call should sound less like a siren song, in Zuko's opinion. The Foggy Swamp was notoriously dangerous and uninhabitable, and there had been tales of all sorts of strange things happening to the army units which had tried to conquer it in the early days of the war.

For once, Sokka and Katara didn't follow the Avatar blindly. Sokka argued for ignoring the "call," while Katara noted that she could feel something ominous. Zuko made his own opinion clear by using a throat-slicing gesture to warn about the danger. The animals didn't sound happy, either.

"Okay, since everyone feels so strongly about this… bye, swamp," said the Avatar. Zuko felt relieved for a moment. Not a swampy equivalent of a siren, after all.

No – worse. The equivalent of a tentacle monster, perhaps. A tornado appeared out of nowhere, and it definitely seemed to be chasing after them. Within moments, it caught up and nearly tore Sokka away. Katara caught his wrist and hung on before it could kill him, and Zuko joined her instantly, but even their combined efforts weren't enough to pull Sokka back into the saddle.

Suddenly, the Avatar came over to help. He put a shield of air around them and it held long enough for them to finally retrieve Sokka. Then something happened, and they were all flung about helplessly through the air. Zuko's quick reflexes allowed him to catch at Appa's fur at the last moment, but a few more sharp, whipping turns made him so dizzy that he lost his grip and was flung away into the void.

Blindly, he caught at whatever he could. Slippery plant life met his grasping fingers. He couldn't stop the falling, but it slowed him down well enough that he didn't break anything when he smacked into the silty, knee-high water. Not without cost, of course; his arms felt nearly pulled out of their sockets, and his body had been bruised by the plant life. All in all, he rather preferred his descent after the explosion. It involved more unconsciousness. Plus, of course, Uncle.

He shook himself off and looked around. He was alone. Far off in the distance, he thought he could hear Appa's bellow, but there was no sign of anyone else. Straining his heat-sense to the utmost, he could detect quite a large amount of wildlife around him, but nothing that felt human. With a resigned sigh, he began to trudge his way through the water towards where he thought he heard Appa. The Avatar would not leave the bison behind.

Within five minutes, he nearly lost a foot to the snapping jaws of a monster. It had a truly impressive amount of teeth and looked like a log, both to his eyes and to his heat-sense. Only the movement had alerted him. He vaulted up a tree and threw out a shield of fire around himself – just in time, because that thing leapt up into the air after him. The sound it made as its whiskers burned sent chills through Zuko, but at least the monster swam away. Bubbles of swamp gas ignited and burned in unpredictable patterns, and he changed his strategy to suppressing the fire instead.

A swarm of glowbugs suddenly flared around him and did not leave when he waved his arms, as if trying to point out his location to something. Maybe it had not been such a good idea to reveal his firebending abilities here, even if it had been an emergency. He had the sense of _attention_ becoming focused on him. There was probably nothing around, but after that thing, he couldn't be sure of that. As quickly as he could, he tried to leave the area. It didn't help much.

_Not a threat to you; I'm just trying to get out of here,_ he projected through his inner fire, hoping that the things would listen and believe. That didn't seem to help, either. Towards evening, he finally found Appa's tracks, but judging by the wilted state of the snapped vines, Appa had long since left. Something caught his attention about the vines – only half were snapped. The others were… chewed, by small, sharp teeth. Momo? There were no human footprints, but with no other options, he followed the tracks. It wasn't easy, as Appa seemed to take the opportunity to swim whenever he could, and it took a lot of casting around to recover the trail. Even his mask had to come off, so that his vision would have the least possible obstruction.

Night fell, and he didn't dare light a fire. He climbed up as high as he could and did his best to sleep. The creatures around him that he _could_ detect didn't seem inclined to approach; that was something, at least.

The sensation of swinging through the air by one foot woke him up out of a sound sleep. Twisting desperately, he struggled to pull away the vine that held him, with no result. His dagger cut through it, and he prepared to twist in midair so as to fall safely, but two more vines snatched at him. With obvious intelligence, they attempted to pin his arms. Desperation lent him speed, and he sliced through them before they could succeed. The moment he splashed down, he began to run. The vines pursued him for a while, but eventually, he couldn't hear the slithering behind him anymore.

Where was he? It was still quite dark, though morning would come soon. The running saved his life, but left him disoriented and with no tracks to follow. Nor could he head back into the vines' lair.

Crouched tensely on a massive root, all senses at the ready, he waited until dawn. At last, the sun rose and he knew where east was. He had apparently come from the northwest during his nighttime escape, although he didn't know how many times he'd turned around in the dark. The bison's tracks had meandered, but generally headed north to south. So if he turned back towards the west now, chances were good he would intercept Appa's trail again. Of course, he could be on the other side of the trail entirely, but he had to try. He couldn't have run too far. If he found nothing in an hour, he'd cast into the other direction.

Nothing, nothing, and more nothing. Even the wildlife seemed sparser in this section of the swamp. Zuko had been about to turn back when he saw a flash of red through the trees. He crept closer quietly. It was a Fire Nation soldier in full armor – a male officer's armor, though the insignia of rank wasn't visible from the back. One, alone in a swamp? What was he doing here? Was he just as lost as Zuko? Did he know of the orders to pursue Uncle? Zuko tied his mask back on, just in case, and crept closer. Did he dare call out?

His armor looked badly dented, but the man appeared to be quite relaxed nonetheless. In fact, he took off his helmet, as if to get a more unobstructed view of his surroundings. Zuko's breath caught when he saw the side of the man's face. Closely cropped sideburns, sharply angled eyebrows, bright eyes…

"Lu Ten?" Zuko breathed out, losing all caution. The man turned. It _was_ him!

"Lu Ten! How did you survive? I'm so happy you did! Uncle will be beside himself – I can take you to him." Abruptly, Lu Ten turned to walk away through the swamp.

Zuko ran after him. "Wait! What's wrong? You have to come back!" As fast as he ran, he couldn't seem to quite catch up with Lu Ten's unhurried strides. It didn't seem as odd as it should have to Zuko (after all, as a child, he'd had to run fast to keep up with his cousin, too).

"I didn't mean to upset you! I'm sorry!" Zuko couldn't understand why Lu Ten wouldn't listen, unless he'd done something terrible, something his cousin couldn't forgive. "Our entire family fell apart when we thought you died!" he called after the retreating figure, more weakly. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes. Lu Ten died, and Uncle never recovered, and Dad became silent and always busy, and Grandfather died, and Mom left and died too, and Azula became unmanageable…

"Please come back," he yelled hoarsely, but he no longer quite believed it would do any good. Still, he had to try. "Whatever I did, I'll make it up to you. Lu Ten, you can't do that to Uncle – to your father – again. Whyever you kept hiding all these years, he won't care. He won't care!"

He could no longer see the flash of red, but he kept running towards the spot he saw it last. A root came out of nowhere to trip him and he rolled down a hillside, then got up and kept running blindly. Sometimes, he thought he saw his cousin just up ahead through the mist and the trees, and still, he couldn't catch up. His lungs burned as badly as his eyes.

The next time he fell, he slammed up against someone alive and grabbed the figure's arms in a death grip. Lu Ten – no. Blue clothes, not red armor. Sokka.

He might have screamed in frustration, but something else fell on top of both of them before he could draw breath. Sokka's angry shout brought him back to his senses. "What do you guys think you're doing? I've been looking all over for you!"

They disentangled themselves to discover that all four humans were present and accounted for. Zuko half-expected Appa and Momo to drop out of the sky on top of them next.

Katara answered, angry too, "Well, I've been wandering around looking for you!"

Ah, the two siblings worried about each other again. It wouldn't take them long to calm down, then.

"I was chasing some girl," the Avatar put in unexpectedly. Zuko looked around, but saw and felt no one else.

"What girl ?" Katara asked the obvious question.

The Avatar pulled her to her feet. "I don't know. I heard laughing, and I saw some girl in a fancy dress."

"Well, there must be a tea party here," Sokka declared sarcastically, "and we just didn't get our invitations!"

It was insane, of course, but if Sokka were right… Lu Ten? Was he here after all? No, his cousin was dead.

Katara's voice sounded small. "I thought I saw Mom."

He'd seen Lu Ten, Katara saw her mother… Zuko scanned them all with his heat-sense frantically. Didn't Uncle once say that parts of the Spirit World looked like a swamp? No, spirits weren't warm, and the people around him definitely were. So was he. The fact that he could use his heat-sense, since one couldn't bend in the Spirit World, was proof of a sort, too.

Sokka looked down at the ground in response to Katara's declaration. "Look, we were all just scared and hungry, and our minds were playing tricks on us. That's why we all saw things out here."

Katara pounced on this immediately. "You saw something, too ."

Sokka's voice fell and he turned away. "I thought I saw Yue. But that doesn't prove anything."

Yue – the name sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"Look, I think about her all the time, and you saw Mom, someone you miss a lot," Sokka continued. "Blue didn't see anything."

He shook his head no.

"You did?" Katara asked eagerly. He nodded. "Who?"

It was impossible to write in the swamp muck; the lines filled in instantly. "Never mind," Katara sighed. "Was it someone you knew?" He nodded. "Someone you miss?" Yes. "Friend?" Yes and no. "Family?" Yes. "Your mom?" No, but the question gave him pause. Would it have been better or worse to see her?

With a few more questions, Katara established that it was his cousin. "Who cares?" Sokka repeated. "We all saw someone we wanted to see. Too much swamp gas in the air, probably."

"What about me?" the Avatar asked. "I didn't know the girl I saw. And all our visions led us right here." He turned around, examining their surroundings carefully.

"Okay… so where's here?" Katara asked. "The middle of the swamp ?"

"Yeah," the Avatar breathed. "The center."

How did he know that? It was plausible, however. Some force, concentrated here… The Avatar babbled on in a relieved voice that this had been what called him. Siren, indeed, to use the people they loved against them. Zuko swallowed his bitterness and disappointment. They had to be very, very careful here.

A vine monster erupted from the ground nearby. So here came the tentacles again. The others screamed, but Zuko only heard it distantly as he launched himself at the monster. The dagger was too small to cut off vines quickly enough; he needed his swords. No use wanting them, however. He'd work with what he had. Beside him, Sokka also swung into action with his edged club. Vines writhed around them, and he wasn't quite fast enough. It caught him and pinned his arms so that he couldn't cut his way free.

Suddenly, a blast of air from the Avatar made the thing drop him. It swung at the new target. Zuko and Sokka were kept busy slashing at the vines that flung themselves around the two of them. He must not firebend. Who knew what other monsters might be attracted by it? But the situation looked desperate. If it came to the last resort… would he do it? It would blow his cover and all his chances, but if everyone died, that would not be too good, either.

They fought on. Aang and Katara made the most headway against the monster, as they sliced off whole bundles of vines at once with water and air, but it just regrew the vines as quickly as it lost them. Still, the four of them kept it busy. Did vine monsters grow tired? They had to try.

Once again, he wasn't quick enough. The thing grabbed Sokka, then began to pull him into the writhing green mass. Zuko didn't dare leap on top of the thing in case it sucked him in, too, but he jumped as close as he could and began to direct chi-enhanced kicks and blows at the vines around Sokka. The vines bent and snapped under the impact, and Sokka's envelopment slowed, but not enough. Not enough. The Avatar rode a ball of air up the monster's torso and did something that twisted the thing's vines like a top, but still it wouldn't release Sokka. His face was almost covered now; how long could he breathe?

Katara froze the vines holding Sokka, and if they hadn't been too busy, they might all have cheered. With a wave of water, she freed the ball of ice containing her brother from the vine monster, which splashed into the water nearly out of the thing's reach. Zuko spared a moment to check that Sokka wasn't freezing too badly along with the vines, and he didn't seem to be, Katara had excellent control now… wait. There was something warm inside the mass of vines. Something human-shaped. A bender? Maybe Zuko should let it capture him after all, so that he could reach the being inside, but how would he communicate the plan to the others?

Aang's latest attempt to attack ended with him being swatted out of the air. The hole in the monster closed. It was Katara's fight, now, and she knew it. Sharp loops of water rolled at the monster, slicing it up faster than it could repair the damage. Before long, the others spotted the same thing that Zuko had. "There's someone in there!" Sokka yelled. "He's bending the vines!"

Instantly, Katara responded by slicing off the top of the thing's head. Though the monster tried to grab her, the Avatar followed up quickly and directed a powerful blast of air into the exposed cavity. The vines fell to reveal a short man dressed in nothing more than a leafy loincloth.

"Why did you call me here if you just wanted to kill us ?!" the Avatar screamed angrily.

"Wait!" the short man said as the vines flopped limply around him. "I didn't call you here."

"We were flying over and I heard something calling to me, telling me to land."

Sokka came up. "He's the Avatar. Stuff like that happens to us – a lot."

"The Avatar! Come with me," the man said.

The children were about to follow him when Zuko planted himself between them and the man. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at everyone impartially. These children really needed to learn caution, and even if it was the hopeless task he suspected it to be, at least he could give a warning. Really, were they supposed to follow someone who just tried to kill them all without question? Right after they revealed the Avatar's identity?

Apparently so. "What is it now, Blue?" sighed Katara.

He waved his hands at them in wordless frustration, then pointed at the man, pointed at the Avatar, and drew the edge of his hand across his throat in a sharp gesture.

"Can't you see he doesn't want to attack us anymore?" the Avatar said irritably. Zuko shook his head.

Sokka put a hand on the Avatar's arm. "Aang, wait. Maybe Blue's overreacting, but maybe not."

Zuko tapped a finger against the mouth of his mask and pointed at the man.

"That's an idea – asking some questions," said Katara. "Can you tell us who you are and where you're taking us?"

"Oh, sure," the man said, oddly peaceable for someone who had just been wielding bundles of death-dealing vines. "I'm Hue, and I was hoping for a nice chat with the Avatar at my home. It's right there at the heart of the tree," he pointed and began to walk. "I'm sort of in the same business, you know – keeping watch over the swamp instead of the world, in my case."

The others began to walk after the man at this "explanation," and Zuko was forced to go with them so as to be able to keep an eye out. This Hue had said nothing so far that made Zuko trust him.

"So why attack us?" asked Sokka.

"Well, like I said, I protect the swamp from folks who want to hurt it," Hue said. "Like you with your big knife." He said it in the same peaceful tone of voice, but the glance he cast at Sokka was sharp. "Or this fellow, with whatever he did to that poor cat-gator. They need their whiskers to get around safely, you know," he said, the mildness of his tone not hiding the reprimand.

Cat-gator? He thought those were just legends, but apparently not. They were a kind of fish, really. That would explain the lack of body temperature. Zuko pointed angrily at the foot the thing nearly took off. _I need that to get around, too._

Hue tilted his head incomprehendingly. "Does your foot hurt?"

Zuko shook his head in frustration. _Forget it._

"Ah, Blue can't talk," Katara informed him quietly. "I don't suppose you have something to write on?"

"Sure do," Hue nodded. "We're almost there. Can't talk, you say?" He turned to Zuko. "Thought I heard some sounds from your direction, when you were chasing that yaojing."

Zuko blanched. Hue had heard him and probably, seen him without his mask on. While mentally preparing to run at any second, he acted indifferent. Experience had shown that, when your cover was nearly blown, it could be worthwhile to still pretend it hadn't been. If your opponents didn't know everything, then nothing was more suspicious than acting guilty, and if they did, at least you could sometimes find out something about them in return.

"He can make some sounds, yes, but he can't talk," Katara whispered to Hue. _Thank you, Katara._ This was exactly why it was a good idea not to run too quickly.

Hue looked him over shrewdly, then shrugged. "I suppose that's what I heard, then." Whether or not Hue really bought it, he didn't seem inclined to give Zuko away right now. Perhaps he thought that Zuko would be distracted if he had to worry about the way Hue knew his secret. If so, Hue was mistaken. Zuko would stay on alert.

They arrived at a sort of large indentation inside the tree. Hue pointed out a place where he claimed to have achieved enlightenment, and began to drone about how everything was connected. Zuko didn't find it particularly interesting – it sounded even more cryptic and convoluted than Uncle on a bad day – but the Avatar seemed entranced.

Katara interrupted the lecture, so she must have been a bit bored herself. "But what did our visions mean?" Zuko found his attention sharpened instantly. He wanted to know, too.

"In the swamp we see visions of people we've lost, people we loved, folks we think are gone. But the swamp tells us they're not," Hue explained. "We're still connected to 'em. Time is an illusion, and so is death."

Zuko thought it might be something like that, but as he worked through the implications, he reeled. Faintly, he heard the Avatar asking about his vision, and then concluding that it was of someone he would meet, but he could hardly bring himself to care. Urgently, he gestured for something to write on.

Hue brought out large, flat pieces of whitish bark and a piece of coal. "Not much call for paper around here," he said. "Rots too quickly."

What did he care about paper? Quickly, he wrote, "So if I didn't see someone I thought was dead, does that mean she isn't?"

Katara and Sokka both caught on immediately and stared at him. "Well, I reckon it's like this," Hue drawled, his speech too slow for Zuko's liking. "Yaojing are funny critters. They only take one form at a time, you know. If you lost more than one person in your life, it doesn't mean much."

Zuko's grip on the thin bark made it snap into pieces. On the largest remaining one, he wrote, "Much as I grieved my cousin, my mother's death was far more devastating. If I saw anyone, I should have seen her."

"Love is hard to weigh up," Hue hedged.

"Is it possible?" he wrote and shook the piece of bark in Hue's face.

Hue took a step back and held up a hand to stop the flapping. After he read the question, he shrugged, "A lot of things are possible. This one is, too, but I wouldn't put too much on…"

Zuko didn't hear the rest. _Mom may still be alive!_ He'd lost hope of that. It hurt on its return, like a limb that had fallen asleep, but he welcomed the pain. Tears trickled freely down his face, dripping from beneath the mask. Normally, he would have hidden them; now, he didn't care.

Katara's gentle grip on his shoulder brought him back to reality. "Blue, I know this is a lot for you to handle, but please, focus. We still have to get out of this swamp."

"Yeah," Sokka added gruffly, "and Appa and Momo are still missing."

"I think I know how to find them," the Avatar said. "Everything is connected," he murmured as he placed one hand on the tree. A thin stream of white light shot out at high speed. The Avatar kept his eyes closed in concentration, then suddenly shot to his feet. "Come on! We've got to hurry!"

They raced after the Avatar (Hue made no move to stop them, but he had a funny look on his face, Zuko noted). After some time, they heard the sound of singing and found Appa – in a net behind a canoe crewed by people dressed not much more thoroughly than Hue. Momo's tail stuck out of a bag in front of the singer. Before any of them could move, the Avatar had already flipped one boat over, tossed someone into the water with an airblast, freed Momo, and leapt forward to free Appa. Not for the first time, Zuko underlined his mental note never to get between the Avatar and his pets.

The only remaining person in the boat fought back – with a wall of water. Katara leapt forth to help the Avatar hold the water back. "Hey, you guys are waterbenders!" she yelled.

Apparently, this wasn't too much of an obvious thing to say to the guy in the boat, because he paused and grinned goofily. "You too? That means we're kin!"

He stopped attacking, but Katara's expression did not seem too happy at finding this kin. That seemed odd to Zuko, considering her stated views on family.

Hue rejoined them at that point. They put everything aside in order to make up with the others, who turned out to be inhabitants of the supposedly uninhabitable swamp. Once Appa had been untangled, they headed for a campsite nearby. On arrival, Zuko saw that it was a bit more than a campsite; there were large, grassy huts, guarded by cat-gators. Despite their odd manners, the swamp tribe people turned out to be as welcoming and unsuspicious of strangers as the children, so the two groups got along well. Aside from the occasional awkwardness as Katara and Sokka tried to explain life at the South Pole to an uncomprehending Due and Tho, it was a peaceful conversation.

Soon, dinner was ready. Zuko's stomach growled painfully at the scent of cooked fish-kabobs, and he would have even settled for roast bug, but he still had the problem of eating with his mask on. Katara solved the problem for him diplomatically; she asked their hosts if they would mind the Blue Spirit eating in their hut. Although extremely surprised at the request, they shrugged it off as one more weirdness on the part of their visitors and granted permission.

When he emerged after his meal and finished bowing his thanks, Hue beckoned him over. "Hey, young fella," he said quietly. "Excuse me mentionin' it, but you don't look _that_ bad uncovered. Takes a bit getting used to, is all. You oughtta give your friends a chance, and it's not neighborly, eating by yourself."

Zuko shook his head strongly.

Hue looked at him shrewdly. "Think about it, would ya? You got hurt bad, and you're young enough to take things too close to heart, I can see that, but you have to heal up sometime."

Zuko shrugged and spread his hands.

Hue nodded in a satisfied way. "Good enough. In the meanwhile, I think I've got something that can help ya." He produced a thin, hollow reed.

Zuko took it and examined it thoughtfully, but didn't quite understand the purpose of it. He mimed his incomprehension.

"Don't folks where you live ever use them?" Zuko shook his head. "People don't appreciate the benefits of swamp living, and that's a fact. See here, when you suck on a reed, any liquid on the other end goes up into your mouth. So you can slide one end underneath your mask, and there you go!"

Katara, who had been listening closely, seemed very enthused by this. "Oh, why didn't I think of that?! Blue, you have no more excuse for not eating my soup."

With a nod of thanks to both of them, the matter was settled. Zuko rejoined the others at the campfire. Hue and the Avatar chatted about some mystical-sounding stuff while Katara tried again, with understandable difficulty, to bridge the gap between the two tribes. Sokka nudged him and handed over more of the bark to him, together with a piece of coal. He must have made a special request from the people here. In Zuko's entire life, no one had ever seemed to value his ability to talk as much as these people. Even Uncle more often rolled his eyes at the things that Zuko said than seemed inclined to listen. Maybe he really was too stupid, and not worth listening to, but it was nice to think that someone wanted to hear him.

It hurt that when he captured the Avatar, it would mean the end of this. Of course, it couldn't really matter as much as it seemed. He was making too much out of this. He was lonely for home, heartsick at the distance between himself and his father – of course any sort of friendly contact would seem good, under the circumstances. When he had what he really wanted, all this would seem worthless.

Yet why did he have to choose? Why couldn't he have a Water Tribe boy for a friend? Why couldn't that boy's sister visit both of them at the Fire Nation palace, and relax for once in the care of the servants, instead of running around after everybody, being all bossy and caring? If he ever found Mom again, they could all sit around the pond… Wasn't the whole purpose of the war to unite the world?

No. Sokka and Katara would never visit the Fire Nation, home of the people who killed their mother. The moment he took off his mask, they would hate him and Katara would freeze him with ice and never let him out. The Avatar had to be captured for the good of everyone. And Father – Father would hate him for even thinking of being friends with these people. Zuko might get on his knees and beg as much as he liked, but it wasn't an option. Father had always said that friendship itself was weakness.

Uncle isn't weak, something whispered in his mind. Also, why had Azula never been reprimanded for having friends, the way that Zuko had been, if friendship was so terrible?

"So, um…" Sokka broke into his thoughts. He looked embarrassed but determined to get this out. "Your mom, huh?"

Zuko tilted his head in question.

"You're thinking about her, I mean," Sokka elaborated, still very awkward. The thought occurred to Zuko that Sokka was trying to be comforting about a very difficult topic.

"A little," he wrote on the bark. "I've got a lot on my mind."

"Really?" Sokka sounded surprised. "After the way you acted earlier, I thought you wouldn't be able to think of anything else. Uh…" he flushed painfully at the faux pas.

Zuko waved a hand. "I've gotten used to not thinking too much about certain topics, I suppose," he wrote. "It's easier that way."

Sokka nodded. "I gotcha. You still don't really know if she's alive, or where she is, or anything. If you let yourself think about it, your mind would just whirl around in circles."

Zuko nodded. "Now that I know it's possible, I'll try to find her. I just don't even know where to start."

"Well," Sokka scratched his head, "can you remember anything unusual that happened around the time she disappeared? That might be a place to start."

Zuko held still. Of course, that should have been obvious, if not for the way that he hated thinking about that night. Mom had protected him from something, but nothing threatened him. He was a prince; there were always guards. Azula lied. Grandfather Azulon obviously changed his mind. Mom had nothing to do with any of that. She couldn't have. Zuko pressed his fists against his temples to drive out those thoughts. Bad implications. Wrong ones. He couldn't think about it.

"It's all right," he heard Sokka say. It wasn't all right, but he couldn't think why.

"The last thing she told me," he wrote in between shuddering breaths, "was 'Never forget who you are.' What kind of advice is that? What did she want me to do? If she didn't die, why hadn't she returned all those years? Why did she leave me behind?"

"Well, did you?" Sokka asked practically.

Zuko stared at him. _Did I what? _he thought.

"Did you ever forget who you are?"

Zuko thought about it, and the more he thought, the less certain he became. "I don't know; I can barely remember what I was like at nine," he wrote. Who was he, anyway? Prince Zuko, yes, but when Mom had left, he had only been the child of the second son of the Firelord. He hadn't been the Crown Prince, and Mom couldn't have known he would become one. Or could she? Did she mean she didn't want Zuko to inherit? That seemed wrong. Mom had never cared about those things.

He had other things, too, besides being the prince. The mask he wore proved that. Had he always been those things? Was it a mistake to learn anything beyond a nine-year-old's circle of interests? That seemed absolutely wrong. His mother had always loved it when he learned something new.

It baffled him completely.

"Well," Sokka said after the silence had stretched too long, "think about it when you can. It could be another clue. In the meanwhile, since you asked why she left you behind… I think she must have had to. Like Dad had to leave me, for the greater good. He told me that being a man means knowing where you are needed the most. Maybe your mom knew that the rest of your family needed you more than she did. She must miss you a lot. I know my dad misses me and Katara."

Zuko thought about that. "You may be right," he wrote, "but if so, I did a really bad job of living up to my responsibilities." He'd failed Dad, Azula had never particularly needed him, and he kept disappointing Uncle.

Sokka scoffed. "Judging by the way you act responsible for us? Not likely."

"You're wrong. As someone pointed out a few days ago, I haven't exactly stuck by my family."

"Didn't you say something about having to make up for some stupid thing before going home? Sounds to me like you're doing your best to live up to your responsibilities."

"You want a list of all the times I failed?"

"Nah. You'd just be too hard on yourself."

Zuko didn't know what to say to disabuse him of this very wrongheaded notion. Maybe he shouldn't keep arguing. This really couldn't be easy for Sokka, after all. After a pause, he wrote, "I'm sorry that you didn't find out that your mom might still be alive. You deserve that kind of happiness."

Sokka waved it off, but his eyes got suspiciously moist. "I got used to dealing." Zuko stared at him. "All right, you caught me, I still miss her a lot. But I'm okay. I will be."

Zuko reached over to grip his forearm. Sokka returned the gesture. "Thanks, Blue."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Eventually, Sokka straightened up. "See? All fine now."

Zuko shook his head mildly, but didn't argue.

"Right," Sokka pronounced with new determination. "We were talking about you, not me. So, who you are, hmm." He took a new piece of bark and held out his hand for the coal. Zuko dropped it into his palm. "Let's make a list of what we know about you." He wrote things down as he spoke them aloud. "You're helpful to people. You're an excellent swordsman, but you kept your father's dagger instead of saving your swords. You love your family, but feel that you screwed up somehow. You like to show off from time to time, then spend the rest of the time hiding. You can be downright antisocial. Something terrible happened to you in the past that you don't want to talk about. Those are the first things that come to mind."

They were accurate, too, as far as they went. The only thing on the list that Zuko crossed out was "helpful."

"Shy, too. Write it down."

Zuko shook his head in refusal.

"I'd add 'impulsive,' 'obstinate,' and 'occasionally thoughtless' to that list," Katara suddenly interjected. Zuko hadn't realized she had paid attention to the conversation, but he couldn't argue with her characterizations. He wrote those things down.

"Inclined to believe the worst about yourself," Sokka glared at Katara. Zuko didn't write it down. "Wait, let me guess, you think the worst is the most accurate. Add 'idiotic' instead, then."

Zuko shook his head, an involuntary smile tugging at his lips.

"What, that's not bad enough for you?" Sokka teased. "Hmm, let me see. 'More brainless than a rabbit-slug.' That do?"

Katara giggled a bit. "You're too nice for your own good, Sokka. 'More brainless than a bucketful of rabbit-slugs swimming about in stupid-juice.' That should do it."

"That hurts," Zuko couldn't resist writing. "Couldn't you at least make it 'swimming about in wine'? That way, the stupid is more temporary."

Sokka and Katara both laughed. "Hey, what do you know, Blue, you do have a sense of humor sometimes," Sokka gasped. "'Slowly developing sense of humor.' Add that to the list."

Zuko shrugged and obeyed. It made the siblings laugh harder.

It came so easily to them. Why was their mother dead? Why was the world so unfair?

It just was. A Fire Nation raid. Zuko knew roughly how that would have gone. The people of the fire weren't well-suited for defense, so they poured their all into the first attack, hoping to overwhelm the enemy by sheer force. People got caught up who shouldn't have been caught up. War was brutal that way. Like with Lu Ten…

Lu Ten's was the other side of getting caught up. He should have been surrounded by men willing to die to protect him, so he had been. Still, he died. Still, nothing was the same afterwards. Just a vision in a swamp, and a desperate hope. If Zuko could have come back to Uncle with Lu Ten by his side… Uncle would have been happy, truly happy, not this face that he kept putting on for the benefit of the world. If Zuko could have Lu Ten back, the cousin who swore that he was too old to play with "the babies" and then spent hours playing with them anyway, so much weight of grief would fall away… His cousin had encouraged him when he struggled with his firebending, and then, for a diversion, would show Zuko how to handle various weapons, because, he said, all sorts of skills could prove unexpectedly useful. Lu Ten, who had been the best cousin ever and taught Zuko so much about being a good son and a good man. Everything was wrong now.

_Lu Ten never had to prostrate himself in front of his father, for instance._ Wait, where had that thought come from? A son owed his father respect, and a loyal subject owed even more respect to the Firelord. If the Firelord made exceptions for his family, chaos would ensue. Right? Right. If Uncle Iroh had inherited as he should, that would still be the case. Right? Right. Uncle did love him the way a father did – caring for him, patiently correcting his many errors, protecting him. Maybe even better than his father did. No, he mustn't be an ungrateful son. Uncle loved him like an uncle. That was the difference.

Katara accused him of spacing out at that point, and he gladly abandoned those thoughts, but he didn't have the heart to continue the discussion, either. Under the pretense of going to think over the list some more, he retreated for the night.

_Never forget who you are. _ What if he never knew who he was? Why had Mom expected him to know? He'd been nine. Was she afraid he would forget something important? What? At least he wasn't the only one so confused. Mai said that she didn't know who she was, either.

The silly list floated back into his thoughts. Sokka was right; it was a starting point. Still too vague to answer the question, though. Who am I?

Zuko. Son of Ursa and Ozai. That had to be the bedrock. That was who he had always been and always would be. He couldn't forget that, no matter how far away from home, no matter how much he had to disguise his identity. He wouldn't forget that. He thought his mother would definitely approve.

Other definitions swirled through his tired mind. Prince. Banished. Azula's brother. Failure. A mediocre firebender, but one who loved the fire. Uncle's nephew. Someone who would fight, even when it was hard. They were definitely all aspects of his self, but how central were they? He fell asleep before he could sort it out any more clearly.

* * *

><p>When Aang woke, he felt a lot more cheerful than he had for the past few days. Death is an illusion, Hue had said, and although Aang couldn't buy it completely, it definitely felt better to think that way than to imagine his entire people gone and vanished. "Rise and shine!" he called out to the others. "We've gotta get moving." He had a good feeling about today.<p>

Lee, who was already awake, seemed startled by this. In a minute, he came over with a piece of bark in his hand. "Are we in a hurry?"

"Well," Aang explained, "that earthbending teacher is not going to find himself."

Lee sat down on the ground to write something else. When he finished, Aang read "You still haven't discovered what exactly 'called' you to the swamp. Don't you think that's important?"

Aang scratched his head. "No, not really. Hue's been living here forever with no trouble. I think it's just the swamp being alive in some sense."

"Then where did the tornado come from?" wrote Lee.

"Who knows? Hue said he can't call up tornadoes. Must have been freak weather, after all."

Lee stared at him. That demonic grin never did become much easier to take. "No. Think. You learned how to trace a connection, and you found Appa and Momo. Do it again, but try to trace the connection to whoever sent the tornado."

"Why?" he asked, somewhat frustrated at Lee's high-handedness.

"I'd rather not say, in case I'm wrong, but it could be extremely important."

"Lee, really, what's this about?" asked Aang warily.

"It's about you not ignoring your newfound talent," Lee wrote out fiercely.

"Really? My talent? Just a few days ago, you thought I went about kidnapping children! Why should I trust your intuition?"

Lee's fists clenched, then relaxed slowly. "You don't need to trust my intuition, or me," he wrote. "But it's extremely stupid to ignore something so remarkable. Stop avoiding the topic and do it already."

"Well, I still don't think it's any of your business!" Aang glared.

As usual, Katara quickly showed up to restore peace. "What's going on?"

Aang sputtered, unable to explain clearly. Lee handed over his piece of bark.

Katara scanned the written lines. "Aang, Blue makes a good point, actually. Why don't you want to try?"

"A good point? It doesn't sound stupid to you?" he asked, feeling a bit betrayed.

"Aang, if you think that this is something you _shouldn't_ do, then I trust you. But you still haven't explained why you think it's a bad idea."

"Because!"

Katara looked at him in that way she had, the one which made him feel uncomfortably small. "Is this still about what happened at Omashu?" she asked gently.

"No," he answered curtly.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Then what's making you so upset?"

"I don't know. I just don't like this."

"You were the one who wanted so badly to land. Now you just want to leave? What changed?"

"I used this connection thing, that's what!"

Sokka wandered over to join them. "Hey, what's going on?"

"We're talking about why Aang doesn't want to use his connection thing again," Katara explained.

"Hey, freaky Avatar stuff? Not using it sounds good to me."

"But… if we hadn't found Appa and Momo in time… is that a good thing?" Katara questioned.

"No," he said, finally startled out of his sullenness. "No, I should be happy about it, shouldn't I?"

Katara drew him down to sit on the ground. "It felt wrong, somehow?"

"No… yes… no…"

They all sat silently, waiting for him to answer.

He rubbed his forearms. "When I followed the – connection – I could almost feel the whole of the swamp. I got this sense of – not dark things, exactly. The swamp means us no harm. Something – hurt. It's been hurting for a long time. I don't…" his throat closed.

Blue lowered his head and began to write again. "Isn't it likely that the part that hurts needs you? Maybe it wants to be helped, and is just yelling for whoever can hear it."

"It's not just the swamp's pain," he whispered. "It felt like I was hurting, too, somehow."

Blue thought about that. "You and it must be connected. I suspected something of the sort. If it's too much for you, then we'll leave. Don't just avoid it because you're afraid, though. Try to face the fear, first."

Katara put an arm around him and squeezed. "You know we'll help you any way we can. You don't have to face it alone, whatever it is." Blue nodded.

"Yeah, and if it tries to hurt you, we'll kick it up and down the length of the swamp until it squalls," Sokka added, fingering his boomerang.

Aang looked at the three of them. "You really think I should try? All right," he sighed. He put one hand on the ground as before. _Source of the tornado,_ he thought, but felt nothing. He yanked his hand back. "Nothing's happening, let's go!"

Blue caught his arm before he could leap up. With his other hand, he wrote, "No, you don't get to give up so easily. Try again."

"It's not going to work, I know it!"

"Because you weren't trying."

"I was!"

"Look for Appa again, then. See if you can find him twice."

Aang's sigh nearly knocked everybody over, but he put his hand on the ground again. Appa. This was stupid. He knew exactly where Appa was – resting behind the hut. His friend's furry head poked out unmistakably.

_What if I lose him again?_ he thought. He didn't like that thought at all. He couldn't lose Appa. He needed to be able to find him, if anything happened. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

In a flash, he saw Appa from a different angle. When he opened his eyes, his hand was still glowing, and a thread of white snaked from it to Appa's forehead.

"You did it!" Katara hugged him. He tried not to blush too obviously.

"This could really come in handy," Sokka mused.

A rustle of bark announced a new message. "Enough self-congratulation. You can obviously do this. Focus on that source of pain you felt, and don't let yourself become distracted this time."

Aang glowered at Lee mulishly, but did as he was told. The energy seemed more sluggish this time. It wove through the swamp slowly, uncertainly. At last, however, he saw a clearing in his mind's eye. Some squarish structures poked out of the ground, but they were so completely covered with moss, it was impossible to tell what they were. Aang looked for a person, or even a spirit, but could find no one. Still, something told him that he should go there.

Once the directions fixed themselves firmly in his mind, he opened his eyes and told the others what he'd seen.

"It's up to you, Aang," Sokka said. "Want to go check it out?"

"I suppose," he shrugged.

"We can ask if the others know something about it," Katara offered. "We need to eat something before we leave, anyway."

So that was what they did. Due and Tho knew nothing about that place, while Hue could only tell them that he had never seen anyone there. It seemed safe enough. They all piled onto Appa and set off to face whatever it was.


	14. Sanctuary and Spirits

**Chapter 14**

Zuko wondered if he should whittle down a staff for himself, so as to have just one more weapon at hand. He still didn't trust whatever had called the Avatar, though he was inclined to be more sympathetic to it now that he had heard it described as "hurt." A hurt animal was still dangerous, however. In the end, he only abandoned the idea because he'd never trained with a staff, and it might slow him down instead of help.

Appa swam through the swamp, apparently too tired to fly much. It was a slow method of movement. To pass the time, Zuko pulled out one of his precious pieces of bark and wrote a question for Sokka which had been bothering him. "Who's Yue?"

Sokka's jaw clenched at seeing it. Hastily, Zuko added, "If you don't want to"

Before he could finish writing, Sokka waved a hand to stop him. "It's all right," he sighed. "Yue was my first girlfriend." He moved closer to Zuko and continued in a low tone, as if he didn't want the others to hear. "Look, I don't care what kind of weird stuff you think happened in the swamp. Just leave Yue out of it, all right?"

Zuko nodded. Sokka's first girlfriend? His thoughts instantly flew to Mai, who wasn't his girlfriend, but… when they had been kids, they had practiced kissing on each other. It had been weird at first, but eventually, it became really nice. It became something more than practice, too, though both were hesitant to acknowledge it. Zuko had been working up his courage to ask her out officially, just before the Agni Kai. Afterwards, of course, he knew that it wouldn't happen. But just a few days ago, she said there was no one, and that she more than did not mind the scar, and she kissed him… Why hadn't he asked her to be his girlfriend then? Of course, they couldn't do the usual dating stuff, not on their separate quests, as it were, but what if she'd said yes anyway? What if he didn't get another chance to ask?

Hesitantly, he wrote, "I don't care about the swamp, but if you would, tell me – how did Yue die?" He was afraid of another "Fire raid" answer, but the reality proved worse.

"She turned into the moon," Sokka answered shortly. "Literally. That night when the moon went black – did you see it? She gave her own life to keep the moon alive – she was so brave." His voice gave away his longing.

He nodded. He remembered Uncle's story now. So that was why the name sounded familiar. "She must have been amazing, and hard to lose. That's rough, buddy," he wrote.

Sokka smiled weakly. "Whatever happened to 'I need more time to make friends?'" he joked, though his heart was obviously not in it.

"I didn't say 'friend' yet," Zuko promptly wrote. Then, afraid of how Sokka might take that, he added, "I don't mean that in a bad way."

"Eh, you're still being weird," Sokka sighed. "All right, gotcha, buddies before friends. I can work with that."

"I'm glad," Zuko wrote, and he meant it. "Do you want to talk about her?"

Sokka did, though he kept his voice as low as possible. It sounded like a short but intense courtship, complicated by the fact that she'd been engaged to someone else at the time. Sokka spent a while on the unflattering description of his rival, and although Zuko was inclined to filter the description for partiality, the guy really sounded like a lowlife. "Good thing you didn't let let him get away with such disgusting talk," he wrote, which cheered Sokka up a bit. He and Yue didn't have much more time after that, though, which was depressing.

"I kinda wonder," Sokka sighed at the end, "if she really does still remember me. As the Moon Spirit, she has to watch over the whole world."

"As the princess, she would have had to watch over the whole tribe, and it didn't stop her from noticing you in that crowd."

Sokka seemed a bit comforted by that, and they fell quiet again. Zuko pondered this new revelation. Sokka now had another reason to hate the Fire Nation. Zhao was responsible for his first girlfriend's – death? Non-life? Either way, she wasn't coming back, and Sokka grieved her. If Zuko were the prince at his father's right hand, instead of a banished one, could he have prevented that? Would his father have listened to him over Zhao?

Zuko still hated the Avatar for what he did at the North Pole, but it became harder to maintain the fieriness of indignation now that he could see what might have driven the Avatar to it. He would have seen his newest home under attack; he would have seen his friend grieving the loss of his first love; he would have seen the worst of what the Fire Nation had to offer. Perhaps Zuko hadn't been entirely stupid with his truce plan, but it was obviously too late now. The Avatar had chosen his actions, and they were horrible ones, out of proportion to any provocation. He could no longer take them back.

Soon after, they arrived at the mossy structures. Zuko and Sokka scraped off as much of the moss as they could with their weapons and eventually, found what looked like a lid. On lifting it up, they discovered some sort of locking mechanism which bore a startling resemblance to the ones Zuko had seen at the Air Temples.

The Avatar became extremely excited and edgy at this discovery. He used his bending to open the lock, and although they still needed to scrape off more moss to get the hinges to open, they finally succeeded. The large hatch covered stairs that led down into darkness.

They weighed down the open hatch doors with the nearest few heavy logs they could shift (apparently, the Avatar's group had had some bad experience with a cave-in closing off their exit). Appa remained on guard outside, as he wouldn't fit, anyway. With lit torches, they all proceeded to descend.

The long flight of stairs led to a small room, painted in swirls of white and yellow. Zuko began to feel more and more uneasy. There was no one he could see, but the air was oddly dry and heavy, and it didn't seem to mingle with the moist swamp air at all despite the open hatch. Inside, all they found was a cabinet filled with ancient scrolls, perfectly preserved. A particularly large scroll rested on a central cushion. Aang lifted it up with extreme care.

He began to read aloud, "To those that come after us, these are the remembrances of the survivors of the massacre at the Air Temples. As our lives fade and our hands still cannot shape the air, we write this in the hopes that the ancient craft of airbending may yet be reborn someday."

His voice cracked, and he stopped. Katara and Sokka instantly drew around him to offer wordless comfort. Zuko hung back uneasily. He had never quite understood why the massacre of the Air Nomads had been necessary – the conflicting answers he'd received formed a big part of the reason he could never be very interested in history afterwards, as it all seemed like guesswork to him. But it had happened, and the world had gone on. He wasn't inclined to spare too much thought to the unchangeable – except when he saw the shuddering grief on the face of the last Air Nomad. Surely the Avatars were all evil enough that nothing was too much to stop them, and yet…

"What – what do you think they meant by not being able to shape the air?" Aang – the Avatar – breathed out painfully. "You can't just lose your bending!"

The pressure in the air suddenly increased. All three of the others seemed to share his unease now. "Aang, do you hear whispering?" Katara whispered herself. The Avatar nodded, and Sokka looked like he would have liked to say no, but couldn't.

Zuko had a very bad feeling about this, but at least he had a reasonable guess to offer in answer to the question. Since he'd learned not to go without his writing materials, he scribbled it down. "I've heard that, after moments of extreme grief and pain, benders sometimes cannot wield their elements as well as they did before. With something so extreme as genocide, perhaps it's possible to lose the ability to bend entirely?"

The Avatar tucked his face against Katara's shoulder after he read that. "Spirits…" was all he could say.

Zuko had always wondered why new airbenders hadn't just appeared, since obviously, the element of air had still been present all these years. This weight of grief and horror – could it possibly be strong enough to affect even those yet unborn? In fact, he'd suspected the tornado to be sent by one such airbender – untrained, perhaps, since he or she would have had no teachers, but an airbender nonetheless. Who else could make a tornado? Yet there was no one here. No one at all. The sanctuary had not been disturbed in a long time.

Zuko was aware now, as he had not ever been, of being the direct descendant of the man who ordered the slaughter. It had been a hundred years ago, and he could do nothing about it, but the sheer weight of history pressed him down. Or was that the air?

Something, anyway. His head hit the floor and white light exploded in his field of vision. Dimly, he could feel Katara shake him by the shoulder, then several hands pulling him into a sitting position, but resounding silence swirled around him. His knees drew up instinctively against his torso and he clutched at his head. Somehow, he'd expected voices, accusations, screams – this was worse. He couldn't defend himself against this agonized silence.

A warm weight settled onto his shoulder, his only point of orientation. Momo?

Blue light wove around the white and he braced himself for the assault to increase, but instead, something eased. He breathed against the pressure; his chest moved fully again. The Blue Spirit made his own honor. Wait, where had that come from? The blurry brightness – that must have been it – it reminded him far too much of the aftermath of his first Agni Kai, when he had lost his honor. Was it really possible to make honor yourself, or did he just manage to hallucinate a comforting lie?

"Maybe it's some kind of seizure," all of a sudden he could hear Katara clearly. She sounded frantic.

He uncurled himself from his defensive ball and shook his head, careful not to disturb Momo's comforting weight. Someone shoved the coal and the piece of bark he'd dropped back into his hands. Beneath his earlier words, he wrote, "I don't know what happened. I think it may have had something to do with spirits." His eyesight was still none too clear, so the writing came out somewhat crooked.

"The Spirits?" the Avatar looked around. "Maybe that's what we all heard! I'll talk to them!" He sat down on the ground and pressed his fists together. After a while, the white glow Zuko remembered seeing at the Oasis began to emanate from him.

They sat around and waited for the Avatar to finish doing whatever it was he was doing. Zuko could now hear the whispering sounds, too. Sokka rubbed at his ears from time to time, clearly unhappy, while Katara looked like she was trying to make out the words without any luck. Surreptitiously, Zuko positioned himself so that he could run if he had to. If the Avatar spoke to the spirits and they revealed to him why exactly they'd been offended at Zuko's presence…

After a few minutes, the glow began to expand away from the Avatar's body. He opened his eyes, which looked normal again, but the glow didn't fade. Instead, it formed into the shape of a tall man, who seated himself on the ground across from the Avatar. Zuko stared, his heart in his mouth. That face, which he had seen dispersing fire at the Fire Temple – the face always labeled with some synonym of "traitor" in history books – could only belong to Avatar Roku.

The mouths of the two Avatars moved, but no sound emerged. Avatar Roku didn't appear to notice anything around him – how could he, being some sort of spirit, or whatever past lives were properly called? Zuko relaxed a little again. He tensed right back up when, at the end of the conversation, Avatar Roku looked around himself and looked straight at him. A small smile seemed to form on the old Avatar's face, and he winked out of existence.

Avatar Aang jumped to his feet, no longer glowing at all. "I'll keep that in mind!" he exclaimed.

Sokka was the first to recover. "Aang, what just happened?" he asked plaintively.

"Didn't you see Avatar Roku?" he asked, sounding very surprised.

"We saw him, and it looked like you were talking, but we couldn't hear anything. Come on, Aang, for those of us without spirit-ears, what happened?"

"Oh. Well, I got partway into the spirit world, and Roku met me. I asked him about this place, and he said he wasn't sure, but then made me describe it in detail. After that, he decided to talk out here so that he could look for himself, so we did."

"Well?!" That was Katara.

"This kind of whisper-talk is definitely a sign of restless spirits, he said, but he showed me how to search for those, and we didn't find any. Several of the scrolls in this cabinet are spirit-touched, though. He thinks that, because knowledge always seeks an outlet, and this swamp is a very spiritual place, the fragments of self that the people who wrote these put into the scrolls combined with the energy present in the swamp. It was like those fragments of their spirits could still perform a few actions, the kind of actions they would have done a lot in life, and they will probably find ease when whatever they wanted comes to pass. As for you, Blue, he said that he wasn't sure why you reacted so strongly, either, but you've got some sort of connection to the spirit world, probably through that mask you're wearing, and that the real Blue Spirit was an "interesting" spirit ally to have. Oh, and he said that he was surprised and glad to see you here, and that I had been unexpectedly lucky to stumble across you as I have."

Zuko slumped back against the wall. Avatar Roku had not revealed his identity; instead, he'd done something worse. He considered it "lucky" for Avatar Aang to meet Zuko? It might just be a mind-game, but what if Avatar Roku knew something about him? With fear, Zuko remembered that at the Fire Temple, Avatar Roku had melted his chains, along with those of the Avatar's group. At the time, he'd considered it a very fortunate oversight on the Avatar's part, but what if it had been deliberate? The traitor Avatar approved of him – what had he done that was so terrible, or would do?

"Are you not feeling well again?"

He shook his head. This really shouldn't be happening. He pulled himself together, decided that what he needed was less attention, and wrote, "I didn't mean to interrupt such an important moment for you. You should get to find out about your people in peace, without having to worry about anybody else."

Unexpectedly, the Avatar did not take this easy out. "I wouldn't have found this place if you hadn't pushed and prodded me. So don't act like you're some sort of… hindrance or something."

Zuko sighed. "Well, I'm going to insist you find out more about this new talent of yours, but that can come later. We're here now; we should find out what was so important you were called here."

Aang looked at him with curiosity, but bent to retrieve the big scroll. "All right." He began to read about the history of the few survivors of the massacre.

The stories they told, of their people being burned to death, of soldiers marching through and stabbing anyone who still moved, were stark and painful. Aang's voice broke often during the recital, and no one's eyes stayed entirely dry. And these were just brief outlines; according to the scroll, each survivor had left a detailed history in the cabinet. Those must have been the ones still carrying their spirits.

For each survivor, there had been so many lucky chances involved in their survival, and oftentimes, so many kind people to help them and hide them. Long years followed, of having to hide what they were, which was unexpectedly easy in one sense, as they had lost their bending, but hard in another, as every day involved too many choices about denying their culture for safety. As the years went on and no new airbenders were born, they had almost lost hope. For each of them, however, a day came when they were contacted by a firebender named Kuzon.

Kuzon had spent his life trying to preserve the remnants of the civilization which had given him his best friend, he explained. He had risked his freedom and his life so many times, under the new order established by Firelord Sozin; he had escaped again and again, thanks to the help of people from all nations who believed in his cause. For them, he had made this refuge, in the midst of a swamp that few people dared enter and which would act to protect the innocent.

(Zuko didn't know what to think. Nothing he'd been taught prepared him to see the airbenders as helpless, grieving, peaceful folk. He had never heard them called innocent. Yet this Kuzon, a firebender, spoke of a fierce loyalty to his nation, which consisted of trying to do what was right rather than what was ordered. Zuko fought against understanding how that felt, because of course Kuzon must have been wrong, but wasn't entirely successful.)

Here, they had left these records, of their lives and their culture and their techniques. For many years, this knowledge had cried out to be read by an airbender, until at last one came. He would have left without finding this, but Zuko had led him here, just like Kuzon had led the original airbenders. (Maybe that was all Avatar Roku meant by "lucky." Zuko hoped so.)

All Zuko had wanted was to see whether there were any airbenders besides the Avatar and if this "connection" talent would allow the Avatar to find his mother. He'd been working his way up to asking. How had this happened?

He wasn't the only one digesting what he'd learned. The Avatar at last rose and replaced the scroll carefully. He bowed deeply to the cabinet – really, to the memory of his people. The whispering quieted. When at last he turned around, silent tears trickled from his eyes, but he was smiling, too. "Let's go," he said softly.

Katara put an arm around him. "Aang? Don't you want to read the rest?"

"I want to," he answered simply, "but I don't think I'm ready."

They all stared at him and Momo squeaked.

"If I read this now," he explained, "it won't accomplish what they wanted. It'll just be me, and I already know what the world lost and how to airbend. I need… I need to make sure that the airbenders are reborn. Someday, I will bring a whole group here, and we will take these scrolls to a temple library. We'll make copies and we'll make sure the whole world knows. Then it will be right. Right now, I need to focus on creating a world where airbenders can live in freedom."

It made far too much sense to Zuko, but it troubled him anyway. He had always been taught that fire was the superior element. The other three were not as important. Who cared if the airbenders came back, especially if they were the monsters of legend? And yet…

_There are four elements,_ Mom had always told him. _Our bones are made of earth, our blood of water, we breathe air to give us life, and fire sustains us._ The implications had been clear; take any one away, and a person would die. The airbenders were gone, but not the air. The power to firebend came from the breath. The legends told of the incredible feats of past firebenders, from before the airbender massacre. Was it possible that those things were not mere legends, but could still be done, if there were still airbenders?

Maybe… maybe even if fire was the superior element, that meant something different from "the only important" element? After all, how could one be superior without anything to compare to?

Firelord Sozin had wanted to bring enlightenment to the other peoples of the world, but one could not enlighten dead people. So why were the airbenders dead? Eliminating the threat of the Avatar did not require eliminating all the airbenders. Could his revered great-grandfather have made a mistake? Maybe he'd gone too far, further than he'd intended? Had he been so angry that they would not reveal the Avatar to him that his anger got the better of him? It didn't seem likely. Too much planning had gone into the conquest; the comet, the machines and grappling hooks and dragon riders, the strategy required to defeat the Air Nomad armies…

The scroll of the survivors spoke of chaotic fighting, not organized military resistance. Of course, all war looked chaotic to the untrained eye, but what were the chances that none of the survivors had been trained fighters? Actually, perhaps only those who hid had any hope on the day of the comet. Still… Avatar Aang had not once referred to army training, in his tales of the past. Nor did he display any real knowledge of fighting. Defense, yes, and some clever tricks, but no attacks. What did it mean?

Agh, his head hurt. This was what came of trying to think beyond his capacity.

* * *

><p>Blue lagged behind as they climbed the stairs, so Sokka slowed his pace to match. How many times did this make it, when they'd seen Blue obviously not feel well and then claim that everything was fine? Sokka knew that if it had been him, he would not welcome a supporting hand, either, but he planned to be there if Blue fell over again.<p>

They climbed aboard Appa and soon, they finally left this swamp. Blue was quiet again, but he rubbed his temples from time to time. Sokka didn't put much stock in the "spirits" explanation. Blue had admitted to an explosion, one that left him weaker than before. Some unhealed injury that flared up from time to time? Sokka didn't know how to ask without offending his friend. Or buddy. Same difference.

Sokka now inclined to think that Blue was not a firebender, after all. Blue had a normal body temperature, unlike the Angry Jerk (eugh, Sokka wished he'd never had to touch that guy), and there had been no more odd incidents with fire, not even when Blue had gotten really upset. All right, so it was crazy to think that Aang would ever harm or steal a baby, but Blue had tried to protect the baby, not attack Aang, and firebenders always attacked. They also tended to produce flame and smoke at any provocation, which Blue had never done. While he could not discount the firebender theory completely, he thought that something else might explain everything. What it was, he didn't know, but he trusted he would find out in time. In the meanwhile, there was yet another cool bit of fighting skills that he wanted to ask Blue about, but he waited until Blue seemed to relax a little and stopped rubbing at his temples, which took another hour or so.

"Hey," he crawled over to sit by Blue. "Feeling better?"

Blue gave a single sharp nod, obviously irritated by the question. Sokka raised his hands defensively. "Just asking. It's called being polite – ever heard of it?"

Blue's hand poised for a moment over his bit of bark, but in the end, he apparently decided not to waste his dwindling supply on a retort. Sokka resolved that he would buy another slate in the very next town they visited. "Anyway, I just had a question for you. When we were fighting those vines, you did a couple of moves where it was like you were striking air, yet the vines bent back. Now, I know you aren't an airbender, so how did you do that?"

Aang looked over sharply at the word "airbender." "What?" Sokka repeated the question for his benefit. Aang became very curious indeed.

Blue seemed reluctant to answer, but in the end wrote, "There is a technique by which you can enhance the force of your strike beyond what is normally possible, by tapping into the flow of chi within your body. It cannot be done too much, because it will quickly exhaust you, but it can give a short-term advantage."

"Wow," Sokka breathed. "I never heard of that. Can you teach me to do that?"

Blue gave this some thought. "I'm not sure how to even explain the principles; a lot of it is instinctive and different from person to person."

"But you had to learn somehow, didn't you?" Sokka persisted.

"My father explained it to me when I was young, but frankly, I never understood his explanations, because he always had to frame everything in layers of metaphor. It was my cousin who really helped me with it. He made me try over and over, varying little things each time, until at last, I succeeded."

"Huh," Aang commented. "I guess that's where your teaching style comes from."

Blue glanced up sharply, seemingly surprised. "You're probably right," he wrote.

A thought occurred to Sokka. "Oh, by the way, was that how you were able to cut through metal when you freed Aang?"

Blue shook his head, but in his explanation, wrote, "That was what I tried to do at first. By the way, I'm sorry if I frightened you with all the sword-swinging. I thought that I had to build up force for the blow, and I couldn't very well explain. But it turned out to be unnecessary. That metal was _soft._"

"I _was_ scared," Aang acknowledged. "But just for a moment, and it was worth it. I still don't like what you said about my people, but Avatar Roku was right. I'm lucky I met you."

Blue waved his hands in frantic denial. Sokka helped him change the subject. "I wonder why they didn't use stronger chains," he mused.

Blue went still immediately. "I can think of one explanation, but it's a bad one," he wrote. "You probably don't want to know."

"No, I do," Aang insisted. "I have to know what I'm dealing with, if I ever end up in such a situation again."

Blue shook his head unhappily. "Try not to," he advised. "There are ways of alloying metal which make it soft, but cause it to buckle and explode unpredictably if heated again. It's used to restrain firebenders, so that they can't attempt to escape without badly injuring themselves." How did he know so much?

Aang looked queasy. "Good thing I don't know how to firebend," he commented.

Sokka just shuddered. "The Fire Nation just loves to come up with new ways to torture people, doesn't it?"

Blue stiffened and Sokka remembered his firebender theory again. Surprisingly, it was Aang who answered, "No… I don't think it's the Fire Nation as a whole. Look at what Kuzon did, for example, and he had help from other Fire Nation people."

"Yeah, but there were plenty of people hunting him down, too!"

"We nearly got captured by those Earth Kingdom people in Luanyang," Aang pointed out. "And an Earth Kingdom man gave Haru away to the Fire Nation after Haru and Katara saved him, while a Fire Nation man vouched for you after you saved him. And General Iroh defended the Moon Spirit from Zhao, while General Fong sounded nice at first, but proved to be as crazy as Zhao. I'm starting to think that things are not that simple."

"Yeah, I get your point," Sokka had to admit. "I still hate the Fire Nation, though. They seem to end up with a really high proportion of the bad."

"They killed Mom," Katara put in. How long had she been listening?

"And the airbenders," Sokka instantly reminded Aang.

"Don't you think I know that?" Aang exploded. Whoa, yeah, he didn't really need to be reminded of that. "You don't need to tell me all the evil things they've done! I still don't want to firebend, ever! But I'm the Avatar. I have to be fair to all the nations, and so I can't just ignore that the Fire Nation has some good in it, too."

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Sokka appealed to Blue. "_You_ know about the Fire Nation."

"I'm thinking," Blue wrote. "I didn't expect these arguments. They've given me a lot to think about."

Sokka grumbled at that, but Aang smiled. "I'm glad. It's hard to develop a reputation for being the wise Avatar if you can't make anyone think!"

"You're making me think, too," Katara said. "Though I can't say I like it," she grimaced.

"My father is a very wise man, and I can't say that I enjoy hearing too much of his wisdom, either," Blue wrote.

Katara laughed. "It does get old after a while."

"Well, it comes from wise elders, so it even starts out old!" Sokka added. As usual, no one seemed to appreciate his puns. "Aang, really, you'll have time to become a wise old sage later. I like it that you aren't one now."

"If you say so," Aang smiled. "I'm not really in a hurry to sit and meditate all day, either."

"Good," Blue wrote. "Because before you do that, I have a favor to ask."

"Yes?"

"Can you try to find my mother with your connection-sense?"

Aang's face fell and he wound his fingers together. "I don't know if it's even possible. I don't know your mother."

"If everything is connected, and she is still alive, you can find her through me."

"What if I fail?" Aang said plaintively. "I know how much this means to you."

"I've lived this long imagining all the horrible ways she could have died, and you think you can somehow make things worse by failing? Will you at least try or do I have to nag you into it?"

"Your cousin really made an impression on you, didn't he?" Aang commented. "All right. I'll try."

When they landed for the midday meal, Zuko insisted on an immediate trial. The Avatar concentrated, and a white line a foot or so long did creep out, but after questing blindly for a bit, disappeared. "I don't think I can do this," he said.

Zuko did not take that for the final answer. "It's a new skill," he wrote. "You probably need to develop it. Try to find Hue now."

The Avatar sighed, but did not refuse. He concentrated again. This time, the stream of white definitely shot in the direction of the swamp, but when the Avatar opened his eyes, he shook his head. "It was like I could tell the general direction, but he was too far for me to find."

"How far did it feel like you got?" Zuko immediately asked.

"I dunno – fifteen minutes' walk, maybe?"

"The swamp was larger than that. Did you feel anything different from the connection you felt in the swamp?"

The Avatar thought about it, and even tried to connect again. "The swamp really is mostly all one huge plant. Here, it's like I have to keep forcing a transfer from one thing to another, so it gets harder and harder."

Zuko scribbled on a new piece of bark for a while, then handed it to Aang. It read: "1. Work on expanding your range through exercising your ability. 2. Experiment to see if the degree of closeness you feel to a person affects your range. 3. Try connecting to a spirit, to see if there's a difference between them and living people. 4. Can you do anything to make the glowing thread invisible? You don't necessarily want to make your ability obvious."

"That's a lot of work," the Avatar protested.

Zuko gave him a glare. "That's why I wrote those instructions down. Even if it takes you months or years, this is not something you can afford to ignore. It's an incredibly useful ability."

"I thought we were doing this to find your mom?"

That had been the idea, before the Avatar started displaying some signs of being not as blind and prejudiced as Zuko had thought. If even the one who slaughtered so many of the Fire Nation soldiers could finally admit that it was unfair to paint all of the Fire Nation as unrelentingly evil… well, it still didn't bring back to life those who had died, but it was better than nothing. If more such deaths could be averted… Zuko would not make the mistake of offering another truce, but perhaps he could subtly encourage that line of thinking. In the meanwhile, it wouldn't hurt to distract the Avatar from thoughts of killing by asking him to focus on something so innocuous as the ability to find those who were lost.

Zuko sighed. "If, in the end, you can do that, I will not know how to thank you. But this is bigger than any one person's wishes. You, to be frank, are not a good Avatar yet. Not someone I would really trust with the world. I think you can learn, though. You're getting there."

The boy blinked. "That's really what you think?"

He nodded.

"Huh."

* * *

><p>Though the Avatar grumbled about having "homework," he did actually practice his new skill. Zuko made him promise that he would practice at least once a day and enlisted Katara's aid to make sure that he would not skip without a good reason. The Avatar shouldn't grumble; he was getting off lightly, at that. Zuko would have made himself practice for hours, if it had been him, but the Avatar was a different creature entirely. He really wasn't a warrior, and he wasn't dedicated.<p>

The halfway dedicated warrior in their group, on the other hand, pestered him to teach him chi-enhanced fighting, but Zuko begged off by saying that he was too tired to expend his energy like that. Instead, he offered to teach Sokka some more sword-fighting, using plain wooden sticks since they didn't have any swords. It made Sokka happy, and it felt both useful and good to spar against an opponent.

On the afternoon flight, both of them lay down to rest after the sparring session. Sokka soon began to snore, and Momo curled up on Zuko's stomach and followed his example, but Zuko, far more used to this kind of exertion, lay awake. If these were his enemies, then why were they so likeable? He would love for them to become part of the Fire Nation – that hadn't changed. He still thought the world could benefit from his nation's determination and inventiveness, but the people he knew in the other nations were too proud – and perhaps rightfully so – to accept gifts shoved down their throats at spearpoint. Was the war so very necessary? Or was it just habit? Could they do something different? If so, could he convince his father of another way?

_He used the rules against you, and you called him on it._ Then he got a faceful of fire. It was the right thing to do in response to disrespect. It showed that his father cared. His father hadn't given up on the idea that his son could yet be worthy, despite how often Zuko had disappointed him. Why else try to change him?

The idea crept up on him that – it would be nice – if Father – could show his care differently.

An Agni Kai at thirteen, against the most powerful firebender alive. Yes, he had been weak and acted shamefully, but what exactly had his father expected to happen?

These thoughts wouldn't let him rest peacefully. Sokka was still asleep, so Zuko couldn't ask him, but Katara might actually answer this kind of question more openly. He gently pushed the blanket off in such a way as to wrap it securely around the snoozing Momo at the same time, and moved over to her.

She smiled at him warmly. "Got enough rest for now?"

He nodded.

"Good, or I'd have to lecture you." Her tone became quieter, yet even warmer. "Thanks for teaching Sokka. I'm glad to see that he's having so much fun with you."

Zuko mimed his confusion. "It's nothing," he wrote.

"No, it's not nothing," she insisted. "A lot of people overlook Sokka, you know. When we stayed at the North Pole, Aang and I got all those great lessons, and presents when we left, but no one really paid attention to poor Sokka. Except Yue, I suppose, but you know what happened with that. He didn't complain at the unfairness, but it really was unfair, and there wasn't much I could do about that."

Now Zuko was really confused. "Sokka is hard to overlook, I would think," he wrote.

"He has our Dad's erratic sense of humor and a habit of making himself look silly and inconsequential."

Zuko thought he could halfway understand that. "You're a bender and he's not. Did that have something to do with it?"

Katara got a thoughtful look on her face. "Maybe. Our parents loved us both, but I – I was the only waterbender, born years after the last one had been taken away from our tribe. They couldn't just pretend it didn't matter. As for people who don't know us, like Master Pakku – I'm visible immediately, and Sokka is not."

The same Master Pakku with whom he'd left Uncle? Very likely, but Pakku and Uncle had their own history, so it probably didn't matter. "Then I know how Sokka feels," he wrote. "I have a sister who's a powerful bender."

"Really?" Katara asked eagerly. "You never mentioned her before."

"We don't get along," he wrote. "We try, but we don't. It's not like with you and Sokka. I know that he probably wishes at times he got the attention and admiration you get effortlessly, but I have yet to see you make him feel bad about it, and he never has to doubt whether you care about him. That's worth a lot."

By the far too understanding look on Katara's face, he'd revealed more about himself than he wanted. She was kind enough to let it pass, however. "Thanks, Blue."

He hurried to write his request down so that they didn't need to stay on this topic. "Actually, I had a family-related question for you."

"Mm?" she asked encouragingly.

It was harder to put his question into words than he'd thought it would be. In the end, he tried to start with something more generic. "In the Water Tribe, what kind of respect do children owe their parents and elders?"

Katara frowned thoughtfully. "I'm not sure what you're asking. How we show respect?" He nodded; it was a place to start. "Well, to show respect is to obey the rules, and do your chores without complaining, and listen without talking when they have something to say. Is any of that different from what you're used to?"

He shook his head. "What happens if you fail to be respectful?"

"Well, they usually give you a talking-to. If it was bad, then you get punished, like having to do extra chores, or having to go without supper, or not being allowed to go outside for a day or two."

"And if you disrespect someone important, like the king?"

She threw him a thoughful glance. "Hard to do that in the Southern Water Tribe. We don't have a lot of people."

"Don't you still have a ruler?"

"A chief, yes. Our dad, in fact. But everybody respects him because he has always proven to be the best leader, not because he's 'important.'"

Zuko swallowed. Katara and Sokka were the children of the chief, and they only now mentioned it? It really was a much different way of living than in the Fire Nation.

"I think you're asking if it made a difference between offending Dad and offending the chief, yes?" He nodded. "Not really. Dad was never much for ceremony, so although we got a few extra rules to follow and extra responsibilities, mostly it made no difference. I think it's not the same in the Northern Water Tribe, from what I saw. Yue had more expectations placed on her than I ever have, and they seemed to assign a lot more importance to being 'important.' They tried to make me apologize to Master Pakku, just because I said something he didn't like to hear." She grinned fiercely, as at a hard-won memory.

"What happened?" he wrote.

So she told him about the truly alien way they treated their women, by not allowing them to fight, and how she had successfully challenged that rule. Even with how far Katara went out of her way to avoid bragging, it was an awe-inspiring story, but what caught his attention the most were two details.

One, Master Pakku, for all his unpleasantness, had shrugged off the disrespect Katara showed him rather than decreeing that she should be punished. Few Fire Nation courtiers would have done the same. Two, when she had goaded him into fighting – her own version of the Agni Kai – he did not hurt her. He had tried to humiliate her, but he did not stamp a lesson into her face. Then, in the end, she had won her honor, his respect, and permission to break the rules. (And Aang got to throw cakes at the most respected people in the temple with a _blessing_.)

His breath came fast. Maybe it was just because Master Pakku had nothing to lose – Katara was not his daughter, so her actions did not reflect upon him the way that Zuko's actions reflected upon his father. Maybe it was because Katara fought where Zuko had begged. Nonetheless. Nonetheless. He'd wanted to know, and he had his answer.

Katara gently bumped her shoulder against his. "Does this have something to do with what you said about bringing shame to your family? Did you disrespect someone 'important'?"

She was too perceptive by half. He nodded slowly. He wouldn't give her the details, but he didn't have the strength to pretend she was wrong.

"Important is not the same as right," she told him.

He had no answer to that. She reached around to try to pull him into a hug, and he intercepted her arm. When she grimaced in disappointment, however, he put her hand on his forearm, and let the warmth of her hand soothe him.

They made progress towards Gaoling, and although they still couldn't see any caravans, probably due to the fall of Omashu, all those traders and earthbenders would have had to go somewhere. Small villages began to crop up on their route. They didn't stop in those first few places, since they were too small, but it was a hopeful sign.

They all practiced their various skills some more in the evening. The Avatar had sheer raw power, but with observation, it became obvious why Katara now taught him instead of the other way around. She used what she had a lot better than he did; she was the truest kind of master. Zuko had the odd thought that Azula was more like the Avatar than like Katara, in that sense. Not that Azula relied on sheer power, by any means; she was extremely skilled, and she worked hard to make every move perfect. Yet that very drive for perfection meant that she would do things _that way_, every time, if she could possibly help it. She was smart and flexible enough to change tactics for the second-best when she had to, but she hated having to do it. Zuko had learned to make the best of his screw-ups, because he'd had to so much, so it didn't bother him like it did Azula. It was an odd thought, that his weaknesses had given him this flexibility. Of course, in a fight, Azula would still beat him easily, but maybe he could learn something from Katara…


	15. Unwanted Rescue

**A/N:** I like to respond to all my readers, especially to lovely long reviews that give me a chance for discussion. However, it's become unworkable to try to fit in replies to unsigned reviews into this space (I don't like reading walls-o'-text myself when eager to get to the next part of the story, so I'm not going to subject others to it). Therefore, I'm going to set up a thread in my otherwise-dead LJ specifically to answer reviews from people without accounts here, or who don't accept PMs. (ETA: link is now up in my profile, or, if you don't mind taking out spaces, http: :/ maguena . livejournal . com / 6408 . html).

**Chapter 15**

The loss of a warm bundle against his side woke Zuko up. Since what happened yesterday, Momo had kept – Zuko could only call it – checking up on him. At night, Momo dove under his blanket and refused to come out. Zuko had been afraid of rolling over and squashing him, so he hadn't slept well, but he couldn't complain. It was oddly nice, anyway.

Idly, he watched Momo check all the nearby bushes, ready to pounce on any unwary insects. The lemur wasn't having much luck. Why did he stay with the Avatar, anyway? Odd behavior, for a wild animal. Though everyone fed him when they could, there had been, by all accounts, several periods of time when food had been scarce all around. Even the turtleducks left for the coldest two months out of the year.

The earth shook faintly. The rhythm was familiar – komodo rhinos! He scrambled up the nearest tree, hoping that they were far away enough that he could just put out the campfire and they would pass by. No such luck; they were already casting around. Then Sokka woke up yelling something at Momo about "personal boundaries," and the riders changed course to head straight for them. Since their only advantage now was him staying hidden, Zuko remained in the tree. The Avatar startled awake just seconds before the first of the riders burst into the clearing and demanded surrender.

Small team, varied weapons – elite. The archer almost pinned down Sokka with flaming arrows, but Sokka managed to escape. There were only four soldiers, and four of them; they could defend themselves if they just had time to regroup. A tiny, near-invisible shot of flame snapped the archer's bowstring and Zuko jumped down from the tree to barrel into the leader and knock him off his rhino. It wasn't anything one could call graceful, but it did its job. The man sent a fireball right at him the moment they hit the ground, but Zuko used his grip on the man's arm to flip him sideways, then twisted away underneath the rhino's belly. Before he slid out on the other side of the rhino, he punched as hard as he could into the spot where the rough hide became wrinkled and thin, on the inner side of the rhino's foreleg where it joined the body. The poor rhino bellowed and bolted; Zuko just barely avoided getting trampled.

"Come on!" he heard Sokka yelling repeatedly, and headed towards the voice at high speed, rolling to the side as necessary to avoid the fireblasts. Appa; so the plan was to get away, not fight. He thought they could have taken the soldiers, but didn't argue.

"My scrolls!" Katara yelled, at nearly the same time that the Avatar yelled "My staff!" Both headed to retrieve their belongings; Katara cleared the way with her waterbending, while the Avatar just ducked and weaved as usual. Both were unharmed by the attacks sent their way, and reappeared in seconds. They could have fought, they really could have. "Yip yip!" the Avatar yelled, and they were off.

Not in the clear yet, though, as the fireball which headed straight for them proved. Zuko couldn't help flinching as badly as anyone else _(heat across his face, which would be followed by devastating pain a second later)_, and the fireball veered upwards before dissipating. They all breathed out in relief, but then Sokka yelled for his boomerang, which lay on the ground in the clearing.

Katara didn't seem particularly sympathetic to Sokka's loss at first, which bothered Zuko in a way he couldn't quite define. However, once they landed to restock on their supplies and Sokka made a few more bitter comments, she seemed to understand better and tried to comfort him with one of her hugs.

This early in the spring, it was astonishing to find so much fresh produce for sale, especially in an unremarkable little roadside stall. In the Fire Nation, it would be possible through the use of glasshouses, but with corresponding expense. This merchant charged ordinary prices. Did the earthbenders know something about farming which the Fire Nation didn't? Since they worked with the earth, it seemed likely. Zuko blinked as long-held assumptions twisted neatly in his mind. If the Fire Nation had a lot to teach the other nations, was it possible that the other nations could teach them something, too? Or did they? In a hundred years, surely someone had already thought of that. Perhaps they couldn't exchange ideas, though, not with the war going on. A lack of authority, or something else? Did the techniques not work well for mountainous, volcanic soils? Did the colonies use the techniques without realizing they were not known back home? He really needed to look into this.

A sad chittering sound drew his attention. Momo's mouth was open wide and his ears pointed straight up as he stared at a small basket of goldstraw-berries. The little lemur had helped him yesterday – had somehow made himself feel substantial when none of the humans could, and then acted worried about him, so it might not have been entirely accidental. He deserved a treat, but Zuko had no money. The bandages and half a packet of wound-drying powder, which were all the medical supplies he hadn't yet traded away, should probably be conserved against an emergency. Still… how likely was he to need that kind of powder around here? If he was careful, not at all.

After he wrote down an explanation to Katara, with her help, he negotiated with the merchant for the berries, then presented them to Momo. Maybe he interpreted Momo's expressions as understanding and gratitude when they just happened to look like those expressions on a human, but the ecstatic squeaks as Momo gobbled the berries were all he wanted to hear. He couldn't have borne feeling like he owed a debt to a lemur, of all things. That would be ridiculous.

While they had been thus occupied, the merchant finished loading up the basket of goods for which they'd negotiated earlier. "Here's your produce, ponytail guy," the merchant said as he handed it over.

"I used to be 'boomerang guy'," Sokka moaned.

Hmm, Sokka didn't want to be known as 'ponytail guy,' and Zuko had wondered why Sokka had noticed his former topknot instead of the scar. If Sokka hated ponytails so much, then why did he wear one?

Before he could ponder that more, the merchant wished them a happy "Avatar Day." Apparently, there would be a festival of that name in the town nearby. Aang and Katara immediately lit up with excitement, and even Sokka looked a touch less miserable.

"The last festival you went to didn't turn out so well," he wrote, in what proved to be a vain attempt at caution. The children thought that with a name like "Avatar Day," nothing could go wrong, especially in an Earth Kingdom town. Zuko wasn't so sure. This was the first he had ever heard of such a festival, and the people of Chin had been surprisingly open to inquiries from a Fire Nation prince about the Avatar the last time he passed through, but he couldn't exactly mention that. So they compromised, especially once it became obvious that no one wore masks during this festival. They went on ahead while Zuko trailed behind in the shadows; at once cover for him and potential backup for the children.

At first, it seemed like excessive caution. The children enjoyed themselves, Sokka cheered up, they played a few games, and they bought some food (which did smell really good; Zuko hoped they would leave a little for him). Yet the closer they got to the central plaza, the more his alarms sounded. These people were oddly tense and expectant for celebrants; they paid no attention to the newcomers, but instead seemed to concentrate all their attention on something that would happen. There was none of the cheerful laughter and easy jostling for position you might hear before a giant fireworks display, except for the giggles of a few young children. The people stood still and silent, though many had their arms raised. It was not the kind of eager hush that preceded the beginning of a play, either. Something else was about to happen.

Giant floats which represented the last three Avatars arrived in the plaza. A man ran into the the plaza with a blazing torch and… lit the floats on fire? The crowd moved and made noise at last. "Down with the Avatar! Down with the Avatar!" they chanted as they pumped their fists into the air. It reminded him far too much of the ending of a trial he had witnessed once as a child; the same strained fervor in the hopes that justice had been served and peace would now be restored. That woman had been executed. He tried to pull the three children away while they could still leave, but they resisted. Obviously, they didn't understand just how much danger they were in.

Oh, this was just perfect. Instead of leaving, Katara doused the burning statues with her waterbending. The Avatar did her one better – he leapt atop the statue of himself and revealed his identity. Any hopes for this ending well were instantly dashed.

"It's the Avatar himself!" cried someone.

"It's going to kill us with its awesome Avatar powers!" cried another.

Well, it was true that the Avatar could, but he had no reason to attack these people. Zuko hoped he would have the sense to use their fear to help himself get out. Instead, the boy tried to make himself seem less threatening. "No, I'm not, I…"

The second speaker struggled to get away into the crowd. The first one stepped forward; obviously a local authority of some kind. "I suggest you leave," he announced in a superior tone of voice. "You're not welcome here, Avatar."

"Why not ?" asked Katara. "Aang helps people."

"It's true," the Avatar nodded as he came down to the ground. "I'm on your side."

"I find that hard to swallow considering what you did to us in your past life," the self-important man announced. "It was Avatar Kyoshi; she murdered our glorious leader, Chin the Great."

Here Zuko had thought that only the Fire Nation remembered what the Avatar was capable of. Apparently, however, this new Avatar himself didn't remember it. He paled completely. "You think that I… murdered someone...?"

Zuko's fists clenched and all the anger came roaring back. Did the Fire Nation soldiers not count at all?

Katara proved to be equally blind and extremely ignorant of history as she argued that no Avatar would kill anyone. Sokka didn't say anything, but he seemed to agree. The Avatar himself demanded that they give him a chance to clear his name. The idiot agreed to a trial, complete with imprisonment prior to the trial. Then it turned out they wouldn't let him out on bail, because Water Tribe money was no good here.

Zuko followed Katara and Sokka into the visitors' area of the prison. He couldn't help noticing that the prison itself was open to the air. For once, Katara and Sokka were of the same mind regarding the Avatar's stupidity, as they both tried to argue him into escaping, so that he could continue to "save the world." Zuko hadn't seen much world-saving, but okay, if it convinced him…

"I can't do that with people thinking I'm a murderer, either. I need you guys to help prove my innocence."

So did that mean that all the Fire Nation needed to do was to announce the Avatar was a murderer, and he would come willingly and be imprisoned? Was that how it worked? Somehow, he doubted it. The same cruel indifference which meant that the deaths of the soldiers didn't count would also lead the Avatar to declare that a Fire Nation trial didn't count.

On one of his few remaining pieces of bark, he wrote, "According to my history lessons, Avatar Kyoshi did murder Chin the Great when she divided the lands. Not that anyone particularly mourned him, but that's what happened. You've got no innocence to prove."

The Avatar glared at him indignantly. "Your history lessons? The same ones which told you that the Air Nomads steal children? I don't think your education had been all that great, really." Turning to Sokka, he flattered the other boy into becoming a detective for him.

Zuko would have liked to observe exactly what Sokka wanted to do with his new "prop" – a weird hat with a single attached eye-piece – but he had greater concerns. The Avatar wanted to face trial? Fine, but it would be a Fire Nation trial. So, since prison was a good place to quietly dispose of inconvenient guests, Zuko would stay and keep guard. He would not allow the Avatar to avoid facing his actions against the Fire Nation.

After a brief and odd encounter with one of the other prisoners, where it had not been clear whether the Avatar was about to be attacked or welcomed, the other prisoners made a space within their circle for him. Within minutes, they all seemed to be acting like old friends. Zuko continued to watch and listen from his rooftop perch, but wished he could complain to someone about it. Cruel irony, to make him oversee the Avatar's safety when the Avatar didn't deserve it. If Zuko didn't, though… The people deserved to live without the threat of the Avatar, Uncle needed to be safe, he needed to go home, the Avatar might yet find Mom…

Why should he be beholden to the Avatar for any of those things? Maybe he could, in at least one thing, avoid that. Avatar Roku had apparently said that he had the real Blue Spirit for an ally. If Avatar Roku could be trusted on that and the Blue Spirit actually had some sort of interest in just one of the many people to ever wear this mask… Zuko composed himself as best he could and prayed silently. _You've been known to reunite people. Yours is the unexpected help. Help me find my mother. Please._

No answer. Naturally. Why had he expected one? Why would anyone help a screw-up like himself? Uncle was fond of saying "Half of teaching lies in learning." Zuko turned that over in his mind for a bit, unsure of what it meant, until it occurred to him that this was an odd bit of wisdom to remember at that particular point in time, unconnected with anything else he'd been thinking about. If this was his answer from the Blue Spirit, then was he supposed to ask Uncle about Mom? He might know something, yes, but for an answer, it was a singularly useless one.

_Well, what good are you? I'd have asked him, anyway._

Still no answer, but when he concentrated, Zuko could almost feel a light slap upside the head – not meant to hurt, just to remind. Right, he needed to be more respectful when dealing with spirits. He wasn't in a particularly respectful mood, but since it seemed like he had gained the attention of something, well, he'd try. He kept concentrating, but nothing else happened. _I'm trying to be thankful here, but you're not making it easy. Why pick on me? Why take an interest only to do nothing?_

The only other unexpected thing to float into his mind was the memory of the blue dragon from that painful fever dream he'd had aboard the raft. The blue dragon had spoken with Azula's voice, however, and obviously had nothing in common with the Blue Spirit other than the color. In the dream, he had been a Firelord, and the blue dragon had hissed at him to sleep; he had instinctively known that he should fight the suggestion. After considering various possibilities, Zuko thought that maybe what it meant was that this setting didn't give the Blue Spirit enough power to speak any more clearly, and he needed some help to fight against the spirit equivalent of sleep. Perhaps Zuko should repeat this attempt later, when he had a proper offering and incense.

Zuko grimaced. Aside the fact that he'd never been too eager to involve himself in the spiritual, obtaining those things would be a problem. You could only offer something that belonged to you; he knew that much. Somehow, he didn't think he could fool the spirits by buying an offering with stolen money, and if he didn't steal it, then how would he earn it?

One more difficult task to add to the pile. The Avatar, the fate of the soldiers who survived the failed invasion, Azula's interference… Everything that he needed to do swirled around in his head without relief. Trapped and helpless, he could only wait.

Half an hour later, someone finally arrived, but it was just a guard with a food cart. He pushed it inside the locked area without even bothering to lock the grating behind him and handed round plates of something not particularly good-smelling. The portions were generous, at least. The prisoners dug in; only the Avatar grimaced, and even he seemed to accept the food once he'd had a few spoonfuls.

"Kid, what're you in for?" asked the guard in a tone of friendly curiosity.

The Avatar looked down. "The mayor thinks I killed someone. I didn't!"

The guard looked at him in astonishment. "You're what, eleven? They pinned a murder rap on you?"

"I'm twelve! Twelve and a half, actually!" the Avatar protested.

"He's a great kid," one of the other prisoners assured the guard. "Shouldn't be in here, but you know how it is."

The guard grimaced. "Have you got any wealthy relatives?"

The Avatar's mouth turned down. "No. I don't have anyone."

"An orphan? Why in the world… You're screwed." The guard muttered a number of expletives under his breath.

"No, my friends are going to get me out."

"Oh!" the guard sighed in relief. "The mayor's putting the pressure on _them_. I see. Well, that shouldn't take long. In the meanwhile, if you need anything, just call. I'm on duty until evening, and I'll make sure the other guards know about your situation."

"Thank you," the Avatar smiled.

The guard turned a warning glance on the other prisoners. "You play nice with the kid, hear?"

"Who do you take us for?" one of the other prisoners replied reproachfully. "We have been already, even without you butting in."

"They've been telling me all sorts of interesting stories!" the Avatar put in quickly.

"Glad to hear it." The guard nodded to the prisoners, who returned the gesture casually, and walked away. He locked the gate this time.

"Cho's one of the nicer ones," Zuko heard someone assure the Avatar. "You watch; he'll have a treat for you at suppertime."

"Wow, this is a really nice prison!"

The voice of the prisoner sharpened. "Well, if you're not stuck here, sure, and if you have the guards on your side. Anyway, we'll take care of you."

"You don't need to."

"Yeah, we do. We had today off because of the holiday, but tomorrow's a work day. Hope that they don't make you work."

"What kind of work do you do?"

"Whatever they say. Burying the garbage is a popular one – popular with them, not us, you understand."

The Avatar blinked, and it seemed to Zuko that he didn't really understand. Zuko, on the other hand, did. It was odd that the mayor hadn't told the guards that they had such a dangerous prisoner, but the explanation the guard came up with was even more telling. Money talked the loudest in this town, and if you didn't have money, they could always use you for forced labor. He'd read up on a number of things, in the years before he had an actual Avatar to track, and the writings of Yuen Ha had really opened his eyes to the way that "tactics" included more than battle plans. The prisoners here probably didn't even try to escape, because they had nowhere else to go. An ugly and efficient little system, and one just fair enough on the surface and just as obviously threatening beneath that the people not caught up in it wouldn't dare protest too much.

The Blue Spirit would normally try to free the prisoners, but it wouldn't stop the system, and they would be back in within days. Likely, they would be facing even harsher treatment for having escaped. The limits of power made themselves known – hard.

Zuko listened for a while longer to make sure that no one else seemed to be coming, then reasoned that in company, the Avatar was probably safe until nighttime. Therefore, Zuko decided to do a little sneaking around town. Maybe he could find an opening, somewhere. He tossed in that message for the Avatar to read, and the boy gave him a thumbs-up before turning back to the other prisoners.

The citizens of Chin were an incurious lot and did not seem inclined to gossip. That, or they were too frightened to do so where they could be overheard. Zuko made his way to the richer parts of town where he easily tracked down the self-important mayor. The man still did not seem to be in a hurry to plan or make arrangements; instead, he was the picture of self-satisfied ease. That did not bode well.

He returned to the prison and arranged himself more or less comfortably on the wall dividing the courtyard from the visitors' area. The Avatar seemed to have confided some sort of romantic interest to the other prisoners, and they were busy reassuring him that he would eventually succeed (somewhere in there, he'd also confided being the Avatar, apparently. Idiot.) If the Avatar meant Katara – and what other young women near his age did the Avatar know? – then Zuko was not so sure. She was fiercely protective of him, but Zuko had never seen her treat him much differently from the way she treated her brother. On the other hand, what would he know of romance? Zuko's thoughts turned to Mai again, and he pulled out the stone she had given him. Where was she now? What was she doing? He wanted to be able to court her openly. The smooth surface was warm after resting in his pocket, but became even warmer inside his hand. As he slid his thumb back and forth over the stone, his thoughts smoothed out, too. The Avatar and all the rest of his many troubles would be dealt with later.

About an hour after night fell, the sounds of footsteps alerted him. Katara and Sokka had returned, together with the mayor. The Avatar came forward eagerly. "Honorable mayor," Katara announced, "we've prepared a solid defense for the Avatar. We did an investigation and found some very strong evidence."

Agni, they actually succeeded? How? He should have expected it from the siblings.

"Evidence !" the mayor snorted. "That's not how our court system works."

"Then how can I prove my innocence ?" the Avatar demanded with frustration.

"Simple," the sound of the mayor's voice drifted up. "I say what happened, and then you say what happened, and then I decide who's right."

There were the sounds of gasps.

"That's why we call it justice. Because it's 'just us.'" The man laughed horribly and tried to walk off. Zuko leapt down and twisted his arms up behind his back. He wanted "just us"? That could be arranged. That might be something Zuko could do, after all. The man whined, but did not dare resist as Zuko marched him back to the prison bars.

"No, Blue!" the Avatar protested. "Let him go!"

Zuko stayed as he was.

"Aang, didn't you hear what the mayor said? There's no hope of _actual_ justice here. Let's just go," Sokka argued.

"No," the Avatar's expression settled into familiar stubbornness. "I said that I would stand trial, and I will. I will tell everyone what happened, and at least they'll get a chance to hear. If I run away, they'll assume I'm guilty. Let him go."

Zuko did not know whether to be appalled or impressed. Reluctantly, he released the mayor, who brushed himself off without looking at anyone and scurried out.

Zuko listened as the others discussed the evidence they had found. It was a good piece of investigative work, but the thing was, it would all be for nothing. He pointed this out impatiently again, and again, the Avatar brushed him off. Frustrated, Zuko prepared a question, then scrambled into the prison yard and shook awake one of the prisoners.

"Uh, unexpectedly-appearing masked guy, I can't read," the prisoner admitted with embarrassment.

The Avatar came over to mediate. "He's asking what you were imprisoned for, and how your trial went."

The man shrugged, muscles shifting in his arms. "Not much to tell. They always get me for one thing or another, and because it's all minor stuff, they don't bother with a trial. Last time, it was for shoplifting a few things from my place of work. That's an automatic prison sentence of four months – eight in my case, because they busted me before."

"What happens with the non-minor offenses?" Zuko wrote.

"Well, murder or kidnapping, that sort of stuff, they spin the wheel of punishment." The man, all tough guy bravado, actually shivered. "You don't want to get the wheel. There's only one thing on there that doesn't result in horrible and painful death, and even that's not certain."

"Well? Do you still think you want to stand trial for murder in this town?" Zuko wrote.

"Yes." The Avatar was unshakeable.

Zuko kept himself from exploding only just long enough to leave. Once safely away, he ranted and railed for a while. Obviously, it was silly to worry about assassins when the system of "justice" was so skewed towards death, anyway. The Avatar would not help himself, but Zuko had not come this far just to lose out to a self-important town mayor. He knew where the man lived, after all.

His first thought was to simply threaten the mayor, an obvious coward, into ending the trial with an acquittal. On second thought, however, the mayor's cowardice might express itself in pretending to agree, then summoning up all sorts of guards to defend him tomorrow. Too much risk. Therefore, Zuko would arm himself and prepare as best he could. A pity that murdering this one man would do nothing to stop the system, either.

He looked in on the mayor – augh! He did not need to see _that_. Spirits, he hoped he could forget it. Nonetheless, there was one good thing to come out of the experience. Like many other self-important men, the mayor had a room full of military paraphernalia in his house – including twin dao swords hung up on the wall – which Zuko spotted in his scramble to get away. The sheath was tacky, but that could be fixed, and the blades themselves looked like they were made of good metal, even if they could use a good sharpening. Zuko tried the window; locked, but the frame shifted a bit. He inserted his dagger into the crack and worked patiently. After only one pause to duck out of sight of the patrolling guards, he made it in.

The swords were not quite as good as his previous ones, but they balanced well. Since he was already there, he took the time to swipe a few small, valuable objects, ones that could be traded for money in some other town. Once he was out of the house and away on the other side of town, his dagger and a bit of careful firebending made short work of removing the extra decorations from the sheath – those could now be sold, too. It wasn't as stress-relieving as throwing around fireballs, but it felt good to use his fire, all the same.

As his next step, he returned to the jail. The Avatar had been relieved of his wooden restraints for the night and chained to the wall instead, but slept as peacefully as a – Zuko ignored the "child" comparison which came to mind. On the other side of the wall, Katara and Sokka had spread out their bedrolls – new ones. They'd shopped for food, for Sokka's new hat, and they must have stopped at a third shop, too, sometime during their travels today. Zuko suspected that "having money" was in itself a fun and unfamiliar thing for them. Just left of where Sokka snored, there was a third bedroll, and something on top of it… A slate, with chalk.

Zuko choked up and pressed his fist hard into his chest, so as not to cry. Why would they do that? Angrily, he repeated to himself that they shouldn't have. Really, they shouldn't. He stomped around, unable to calm down. With barely a sound, Momo glided up to him and landed on his shoulder. Zuko told himself that he wasn't crying, not really, it was just a few drops… He petted Momo. If he did have problems, it was only because he hated thinking of how they would feel once he captured the Avatar. Surely that was the only thing, bad enough on its own. The Avatar had to be stopped. They'd see that in time.

On the slate, he carefully wrote, "Thank you," and propped it up between Sokka and Katara. After a session with Sokka's sharpstone, the swords were ready for use. Zuko lay down for the remainder of the night, but made a mental note to get up at sunrise and scout the houses around the plaza where the trial would take place.

* * *

><p>Katara woke while it was still dark out, to sounds of gasping. Sokka was probably the only one in their group not plagued by nightmares on a regular basis, and Katara patted her brother's foot in appreciation on her way around to Blue. This time, he didn't wake at her approach, but neither did he wake up at her gentle shake of his shoulder. A keening sound escaped him, and he mumbled something. Katara nearly fell backwards. The words were heavily slurred and oddly pitched, almost unrecognizable – but they were words. With effort, she thought she could make out "won't fight," and "sorry."<p>

When she touched his head, his whole body convulsed, then he lay quiet again, but it wasn't a good quiet. Awkwardly, she patted his shoulder, which didn't help, then drew up the blankets, which did. She sat by him a few moments longer, to make sure he was going to be okay. Then, yawning, she went back to bed. So he could talk a little – if he was that unintelligible awake, she could see how it was the same as not being able to talk at all. Maybe his throat quickly started hurting when he tried. Maybe he himself didn't know about this; she could see how someone might be scared to try to talk, after being injured badly. Whatever the case, it gave her ideas on how he might be able to relearn to talk. She fell asleep planning what she might be able to do, though every one of her plans ran hard into the fact that he didn't trust them even to see his injuries, never mind do something about them.

* * *

><p>"I wish he'd given us some warning," Sokka sighed as they trudged out of the city. By unspoken agreement, none of them wanted to sleep there, even though they'd been promised something better than a prison yard and the streets this time. Then, of course, there was the matter of Blue. What had possessed him?<p>

"Yeah," Aang nodded tiredly. He'd been checking in every once in a while with his connection-thingy, and thought that he was getting closer to finding Blue. "Stealing is more trouble than it's worth. I told him the first time, didn't I?"

"You did," Katara nodded.

"Well," Sokka defended Blue half-heartedly, "you have to admit, those swords came in handy against the Fire Nation soldiers."

"Yeah, but for a moment there, I was afraid he was going to chop the mayor in two!"

"Well, he didn't, and he only meant to protect you against the original verdict. He couldn't have known that the Fire Nation would show up and get your sentence commuted to community service," Katara reasoned, "so I guess it turned out okay."

"I guess." Aang squatted and checked again. "Oh, there he is! I think I startled him, but it looks like he's moving towards us now."

They met up quickly after that. "You okay?" Sokka asked. Blue nodded tiredly. "Come on, let's find a good spot to camp."

"And then we can have a talk," Aang put in.

Blue threw him a look. He seemed on edge, anyway, so Sokka was not entirely surprised when Aang's attempt to lecture him about stealing the swords – and then using them in front of the previous owner – did not go well.

"I needed those swords," he wrote, in the sharp manner that Sokka had learned to associate with upset and anger. "If the attack hadn't started when it did, I bet you would be thanking me for my foresight!"

"No, I wouldn't! Violence is not the answer."

Blue actually turned and banged his head against the nearest tree. "Says the idiot who was too lazy to rehearse his own defense and was about to be boiled in oil."

"It turned out okay!"

"Not through any effort of yours! You can't keep relying on dumb luck, and by the way, my education does seem to have been more through than yours, hasn't it?"

Seeing that this wasn't going to end well, Sokka stepped in. "Blue, I can understand why you're upset, but Aang does the best he can."

He saw Blue begin to write "Which is not good enough," and interrupted, "Well, what do you expect? Did you have to face trial at twelve? Did you know how to instantly handle every problem life has thrown at you? Did you spring into the world fully equipped to get everything right the first time? Aang tries! We all do, and when we can't handle things on our own, well, that's why we have friends. We got Avatar Kyoshi to show up. You were ready to defend Aang if necessary. Just because in the end, neither of those things were what saved the day, doesn't mean that we didn't do our best!"

While he seemed to still have trouble calming down (come to think of it, he'd been less and less calm ever since rejoining them at Omashu – what was with that?), Blue at least stopped arguing. Katara stepped forward and placed a hand on Aang's shoulder while she looked intensely at Blue. "It took a lot of courage to go through that trial, knowing ahead of time how unfair it would be. I appreciate that you're trying to warn us against anything like this repeating, but I don't like your tone. Give Aang his proper due."

Blue threw his hands up in the air and refused to respond.

Katara gazed at him in reproach. He lasted maybe twenty seconds. "Fine," he wrote, "it was brave. Personally, however, I've always considered 'not acting stupid' more important."

"What you consider stupid, I consider very smart," she retorted. "People do need to see who the Avatar really is, not those ridiculous stories they've been telling each other and garbling into horrible nonsense."

Sokka noticed Aang blushing from the praise. Blue seemed to have noticed it, too, judging by the way he looked at him, then back at Katara. "It seems to me," he wrote, "that keeping this particular Avatar out of trouble is a full-time job and more. One that I would not wish on anyone," he underlined "anyone."

Katara flushed. "Well, you're wrong! And stay out of it!"

Sokka didn't quite understand her reaction, but he understood the sudden hurt in her voice just fine. "Hey! Don't talk like that to my sister."

Blue nodded exaggeratedly.

"Katara?" Aang had turned to look up at her, and his tone was oddly hopeful.

"I'm going to get this camp set up," she answered in a clipped tone and stalked away. Aang's face fell. A moment later, however, she turned and said in a much gentler tone, "I really do appreciate what you have faced today. All right, so we should try to avoid getting in this much mess and trouble in the future, but… you've got your own wisdom, and don't let anyone tell you different, okay?"

He beamed. "I'll try!"

Sokka wondered what just happened. That Katara and Aang seemed to have some kind of communication going on which excluded him gave him an empty, unpleasant feeling. He didn't have so many friends that he could just let this slide. Of course, he wouldn't complain; he wasn't a selfish kind of guy. He just wished they'd let him know what was going on.

* * *

><p>Zuko wanted nothing more than to collapse. If only he didn't have so much to do…<p>

Reluctantly, he picked up the slate again. All right, so he couldn't really argue with Katara. It was brave. That didn't change everything else it was, though. No more than the facts of his own life changed, even if Mai was right…

"Before you get too pleased with yourself, can you just explain to me how not getting out of there the moment they announced the verdict was a good thing to do?"

Sokka made "stop" hand-gestures, but half-heartedly. Zuko ignored him. He wanted this thing settled.

The Avatar shrugged. "I was waiting to see what would happen. Good thing I did, isn't it? Otherwise, that town might be conquered by the Fire Nation already."

Obviously, Chin would benefit even more than most other towns from being conquered, but the Avatar, of course, would refuse to see it that way. He took a different tack. "Most people have plans which do not include sticking around for their own execution. Why don't you? Why are you so," Zuko considered, but could not come up with an emphatic adverb bad enough, "aimless?"

"Aimless?" the Avatar blinked. "I'm not!"

"Well, what in the world are you trying to accomplish?" Zuko wrote. "How are you 'saving the world'? As far as I can see, you just amble along."

The Avatar actually looked a bit hurt. "I'm working hard to master all the elements before the comet arrives! Except firebending – I don't think I need to know that."

"Comet?" Zuko wrote. He had a feeling about which comet the Avatar meant, but he wanted to verify it.

"It's a comet that comes by once every hundred years and gives firebenders unimaginable power. Avatar Roku said I had to defeat the Firelord before it happened, or the world would be destroyed, and even an Avatar would not be able to restore the balance."

This was the first time Zuko had ever heard anything approaching a battle plan from the Avatar, but it was one he couldn't permit to be put into action. His father had been right, completely right, and Zuko had been stupid again. The first thing he tried was just to impress the difficulty of the task upon the Avatar, since the boy lacked discipline and willpower. "So you're going to try to murder the most powerful firebender –"

He didn't finish before the Avatar interrupted. "I'm not going to kill him! I told you, I don't do that. I just need to defeat him."

"Right," Zuko wrote sarcastically, though that was a relief to hear. "What exactly do you think will change, even if you defeat this one person?"

The Avatar scratched his head. "I'm not sure, but Avatar Roku was very clear. I need to master all the elements and defeat Firelord Ozai, and everything will be fine after that."

Zuko didn't know if his father had ever read Yuen Ha – she had been obscured by more recent thinkers in the formal curriculum – but Dad was smart enough to figure out on his own that a system which could be destroyed by removing a single person was not a good system, and liable to collapse. That was why he had advisors, with whom he met regularly, and War Councils, and everything else. "Why are you so certain that Avatar Roku is right?" he wrote, genuinely curious.

"Well, he's now a powerful spirit, so I assume he can foretell the future better than I can."

"Even if you defeat him, this war has been going on for a hundred years. Three different Firelords have kept it going, not to mention the various government officials and career soldiers. I ask you again – what is so critical about Firelord Ozai?"

"That's a really good question," Sokka put in. "Insignificant Firelord – ha, take that! He'd hate it!" Zuko bristled a bit, but managed to force himself back to stillness before arousing suspicion.

The Avatar smiled briefly, then thought hard. "Well, Roku said that Firelord Ozai would use the comet to finish the war 'once and for all.' Presumably, whoever succeeds him would not do that."

"What, that freak Zuko?" Sokka snorted. "I bet he'd be happy to end the war."

It hurt, to hear the disdainful way that Sokka spoke of his true self, even if he was inadvertently right that Zuko would love to end the war. There was just one thing he wanted to clear up. "You say you want to fight Firelord Ozai, but you don't seem to know the first thing about him. You don't know who you're fighting, you don't know how or why or if it's really the right thing to do. Don't you at least pay attention to politics? Prince Zuko is not currently in line to inherit."

"What?" the Avatar exclaimed. "He's not? But he's the prince!"

Zuko hated to reveal this part, but he thought they should know. "The prince, but not the heir. He's banished from the Fire Nation until he can capture the Avatar. His sister Azula is the current heir presumptive."

The Avatar's mouth opened and closed a few times. Sokka expressed their shock verbally instead. "Wait – that was why he chased us all over? Just because he wanted the throne? Oh, man…"

Zuko, who would have sworn up until now that the throne was definitely among the things he wanted, suddenly felt unsure.

"Well, either way," Katara pointed out, "it would be someone else after Ozai. Frankly, I'm glad it wouldn't be Zuko – I think he would just continue the destruction. Maybe his sister is more reasonable, and that's why it's so important to make sure that she inherits."

"Yeah!" the Avatar enthused. "That makes sense! If she doesn't want the war to continue and doesn't want to go to terrible extremes to win it, we can negotiate with her."

This was like a nightmare for Zuko. Azula as Firelord – she would make a terrible ruler. She was born to be an amazing warrior, and to command troops, but rule the nation? She thought that listening to the ministerial reports was boring and unnecessary! She'd never have the patience to pay attention to all the little details required for the smooth running of a country. Yet like always, everyone loved Azula even when they knew nothing about her. He could just see it happening…

As for the war, Azula wouldn't want to stop it. How else would she gain fame and glory? So if, and this was a big if, Avatar Roku was right that his father would use the comet to finish the war "once and for all" –

Zuko's heart nearly stopped. Oh, Agni. Dad had always been impatient with the way that the other nations continued to resist. Great-grandfather Sozin had dealt a critical blow – no, a final blow – to the Air Nomads. Father would want to repeat and exceed that. He'd try to…

No, that was sick. Why was he thinking this about his own father? It couldn't be right. Except… except… except he knew it could happen. But he had to be wrong.

Uncle. Uncle would know. Zuko had to find him as soon as possible.


	16. Illuminating Flash of Lightning

**A/N:** I've made some edits for clarity in Ch. 15, and a small change in Ch. 13 (the paragraph which begins "_Lu Ten never had to prostrate himself_" has been expanded to show more of Zuko's thoughts on his relationship with Iroh). Thanks to Kally Lass for pointing out both of these things!

**Chapter 16**

In a distant port-town, Iroh startled and nearly dropped his cup of tea. Since his reflexes had always been extremely sharp, especially when it came to tea, he rescued it in time. The dragons had taught him that fire was life, and by experimenting a bit, he had found that life was not a solitary thing. Those who you loved were a part of you, no matter the distance – although the actual ability to _use_ this fact required both some skill and regular contact with the person in question. Ursa had been the one to teach him the technique, that time when a teenaged Lu Ten had snuck out of the palace and didn't come back for hours; he'd been out of his mind with worry. Since then, he had learned not to overuse it, as the matter of privacy was a delicate one, but a call was a different matter. He had known long before the messenger arrived a thing he would have preferred not to know – the exact moment he'd lost his son; the shock and loneliness. Now, Iroh had a sense that his nephew needed him, specifically. The sharpness of the sensation subsided quickly, but he could no longer just wait. Whatever it was, Zuko had seemed very lost and bewildered. Since his nephew habitually did extremely dangerous things without fully realizing the danger, or sending out such a sharp signal as now, Iroh was really worried.

The trouble with tracking someone who was a part of you was that an exact knowledge of their location could only be obtained over very short distances. After more than about a room's length, it got fainter and fainter, until only a vague sense of direction remained. Iroh couldn't even tell approximately how far he would need to travel, which meant Zuko was at least a day's journey away. He'd be able to orient himself better once he got closer, however.

It took him perhaps twenty minutes to pack, say goodbye to the kind member of the White Lotus Society who had sheltered him, and set off in search of his nephew. Zuko would be angry and indignant that Iroh hadn't just waited for him, but if he was in trouble, Iroh would be there for him. If, by some miracle, Zuko didn't need help, Iroh would just sneak back to Chailan and pretend he had never left.

* * *

><p>Sokka unbuckled the champion's belt from around his waist regretfully and dropped it. "Ow!" Toph exclaimed. He hadn't meant to hit her, and apologized, but a small part of him couldn't be entirely sorry about it. He still mourned The Boulder's defeat, plus that belt had been truly nice.<p>

Aang and Toph picked themselves up from the ground and climbed aboard. "Hang on tight, Toph!" Aang called back. "Yip, yip!"

Toph rocked backwards on takeoff despite her tight grip on the saddle. Katara put a hand on her back to steady her, and Toph startled. She suddenly looked a lot more nervous and unsure than she had until now.

"You'll get used to it," Katara assured Toph.

"Yeah," the girl replied. Her tone was flat and unconcerned, but she still looked queasy.

They made awkward conversation for a while, during which she revealed to them that she was not blind in the traditional sense, since she could "see" through sensing the vibrations of the earth.

"So that's why you're uncomfortable flying!" he exclaimed. "There's no earth around here – except the dirt between Appa's toes." He laughed at his own joke, but no one else did. Toph turned a look upon him, and although her glare was a bit misdirected, no one could doubt its intensity.

She was a weird girl – very abrupt. While they explained to her what Aang needed to do, she acted like she didn't much care and didn't need to care. Sokka, who considered himself the sarcasm guy around here, didn't really like her version of it. Was she really the best possible teacher they could have found for Aang?

Still, as they talked longer, he couldn't help warming up to her a bit. Despite being twelve, she'd participated in all six Earth Rumbles since they began three years ago, plus a number of other fights, and won each time. She had a number of interesting things to say about strategy, and he had seen how amazing she was as a fighter. They could use another fighter in the group, especially now that Blue had rushed off on some mysterious errand again. By the time she described the way she had humiliated one of her opponents – by using her earthbending skills to make a mannequin of him which walked around the stage and postured ridiculously – he could hardly stop laughing at the story. Okay, he had to admit it, she was talented and had a sense of humor. Hey, Aang was twelve, too, so Toph was actually his age, and they probably had a lot in common. Aang seemed to like her, anyway, judging by the animated way he described some of their former adventures to her. They swapped stories for a long while.

"So now that we've finally got you an earthbending teacher," Sokka said, later on, after a break in the conversation, "what do you think we should do?"

Aang looked back, puzzled. "I'm going to learn earthbending, of course, and train up to face the Firelord."

"No, I got that," Sokka waved a hand. "I meant more like, right now. Where are we heading?"

"I'm not sure," Aang admitted. "I guess I just got so used to travelling, I didn't think much of continuing on. Did you want to stay somewhere for a while?"

"I was thinking more like… if you didn't have other plans, do you think it'd be okay if we looked for my dad?"

"I did promise, didn't I? Thanks for reminding me, Sokka! That's what we'll do."

"So where is your dad?" asked Toph curiously, but without particular enthusiasm. Sokka guessed that after the scene she just had with her dad, she probably wasn't too eager to be drawn into another family's circle. She couldn't know their family was nothing like that.

"That's the problem," he sighed. "We used to have a rendezvous map, but that bastard Zuko took it away. I remember the general area, but it might take us some time to find the exact hiding place of the next map, if the fleet isn't there anymore.

"That's okay, Sokka," Aang said. "We've got time. It's only spring and I've already nearly mastered waterbending, so earthbending should be no problem! You and Katara can search while I train with Toph."

"Yeah, or maybe you'll master your connection thing quickly and we can find Dad that way." Thinking of Blue's instructions for practice, a thought occurred to Sokka. "Hey, are you still leaving firebending out?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? Roku did say that you had to master _all_ the elements."

Aang shrugged it off. "Firebending is the Firelord's thing, so how does it make sense to use his own element against him? The other three should be much more useful."

Toph blew her hair out of her face. "I don't know how to break this to you, Twinkletoes, but if you think that you can seriously go up against a master without knowing the first thing about his element, you're going to end up in a world of hurt."

"I did okay against you without knowing earthbending," Aang argued.

Toph made a rude sound. "Because you startled me, by using airbending when I had no idea that anyone would even know it or would cheat by using it in an _earthbending tournament_. It only worked long enough to knock me down, anyway. If we had been in a more serious fight, I'd have gotten right back up and you would not have enjoyed it. Now, picture a pissed-off firebender who will know who you are and why you're challenging him. _Whoosh._ You're crispy."

"Toph's right, Aang," Katara rejoined the conversation. "You should at least know how to defend yourself against firebending."

"There's nobody who would teach me firebending, anyway," Aang answered impatiently. "Let's not waste our time."

"Jeong Jeong," Katara began.

"Like we'd ever find him again," snorted Aang. "Hey, look over there! Doesn't that look like a good spot to camp for the night?"

"Who?" Toph muttered. "Never mind. I'll find out if it's important."

Sokka took a deep breath. It felt a little like betraying a trust, but Blue would understand. "What about Blue?"

Katara whipped her head around to stare. "What about him?" Aang asked curiously.

"I think Blue might be a firebender – and I think he might teach you. He taught you one thing already."

"No way!" Katara exclaimed, at the same time that Aang protested, "What are you talking about? Just because he had seen how firebenders put out fire doesn't make him one." Toph, who had only heard a very condensed version of their adventures with Blue, listened with interest.

Sokka felt bad, but couldn't stop now. "He taught you to put out fire with a firebending move that none of us have seen, despite facing any number of firebenders." He went on to detail his suspicions, from the moment he had seen the flames react to Blue, to the unusual amount of knowledge Blue had displayed about the Fire Nation. His most recent piece of evidence was the way that the fireball of one of the rhino guys bent upwards instead of hitting them.

Aang still shook his head. "Look, Sokka, I didn't see the thing with the flames you are talking about, despite standing right there, and that's your only real piece of evidence. Everything else could be explained. The rhino guy could have missed his aim, for instance, or there was a sudden gust of wind. We were so busy escaping, we might not have paid attention to that."

"I know! Do you think I like accusing Blue of being a firebender? He's too nice! But that's a big load of necessary explanations. Maybe he's just not like everybody else in that forsaken nation, and that's why he got scarred and injured and why he's now hiding."

Katara put a hand on his arm. "You've been sitting on this a long time, Sokka."

"I would have said something earlier if I had more proof, or if I saw him try to harm any of us," he defended himself.

"I know," she squeezed his arm. "I just wish you'd told us earlier, because I'm pretty sure you've drawn the wrong conclusion this time." It was Katara's turn to share the kidnapping theory she'd come up with. If Blue really had been held captive by the Fire Nation for a while, it would explain a lot of his oddities. Come to think of it, that would explain him being so upset with Aang about not escaping while he could.

In the meanwhile, Appa reached the clearing Aang had seen earlier and landed. Only Toph immediately slid off, and even she remained to listen. The rest of them continued to sit in the saddle while they worked this thing out.

It _would_ explain a lot of things – everything except the firebending move which worked. A wind gust couldn't have done that. Still, maybe he'd been wrong. It'd be nice to think so, wouldn't it?

"You're right," he sighed. "But I still think we should ask him, the next time we run into him. If he's not, I don't think he'll be too offended once we explain that we didn't mean it in a bad way, and maybe he's overseen a few other firebending moves. But if he is, then he could probably really use some friends, and you could use a teacher."

"How do you know we'll run into him? He didn't say where he was going, and he said that I would put him in danger if I tried to find him with my connection-sense," Aang protested.

"Well, it's just a hunch, given that he seemed to plan to check in on us sometime later. Also," he lowered his voice conspiratorily, "I think he must be part of some resistance network. Think about it – he wanders all over, keeps going off to talk to somebody, knows the land really, really well, and can infiltrate a Fire Nation fortress. A secret resistance would really not appreciate having a glowing white thread pointing out their secret location to everybody, either. Then, just now, he ran off immediately after he heard your plans about the comet, even though earlier, he really wanted to get to Gaoling. I think he needed to report on a change in plans, and once he talks it over with whoever's in charge of his network, he'll listen to other members to learn where we are and pop right back up."

After some initial surprise, the others agreed that it seemed plausible, though Katara sniffed that this network, if it existed, didn't seem to be doing a good job of taking care of one of their own. She was right about that, too, Sokka thought, and wondered if Blue could be convinced to join them more permanently, though he didn't share that particular thought yet.

"You know," Toph put in, "he could also be mixed. That would explain why he knows so much about the Fire Nation, why he keeps covered up all the time, and why he might not receive the best of help even from his allies."

"What do you mean, mixed?" Aang asked.

"You know, half Fire Nation, half Earth Kingdom. It does happen, and while most everybody has gotten used to it, a secret resistance is the very place to have cow-hippo convulsions over whether to allow a mixed boy to work for them. Though I'm surprised he went anywhere near Luanyang if that's the case. Maybe, he counted on his disguise. Did he say anything about his family?"

Quite a bit, it turned out when they pooled their information. Father, mother, cousin, even a bender sister, it turned out. Toph thought hard. "Okay, first, no way is he from Shiang La. The Fire Nation hasn't left many benders there, especially near the coast. Also, those guys are a joke when it comes to fighting prowess. One talented kid, okay, that could happen, but I'd have heard of such a famous soldier as his dad, if he were from Shiang La. Speaking of which, you can't get decorated with the highest honors seven times. I'm pretty sure that in all Earth Kingdom armies, the highest honors are awarded for sacrificing yourself for others in battle."

"Could be he exaggerated a bit, being proud of his dad," Sokka argued.

"Could be, but that's an oddly precise number. Okay, maybe he meant not just the very highest level, but the upper two or three. Then it becomes workable. Still, he'd have to be the son of someone pretty famous, for the number of battle awards to add up. You mentioned a dagger, didn't you? Really high quality? I know that in the Ba Sing Se army, for instance, only soldiers at the rank of lieutenant general or higher carry those. They're ceremonial – not much use against firebenders. His father would have to be retired to hand it over, though."

"Well," Katara put in thoughtfully, "when he was asking me those questions about respect, he asked, hypothetically, what would happen if I offended someone important 'like the king'. What if his dad really is that famous, and he met an actual king whom he managed to offend?"

"Well, we do have over a dozen kings to choose from," Toph smacked her hands down on her knees. "My parents, though, did their best to either go to or get connections in every court in the entire Earth Kingdom. If a famous soldier's son managed to offend royalty, and then got hurt bad by the Fire Nation, and also had a mother who disappeared under mysterious circumstances – or a mother who was Fire Nation – people would talk about it. I'd probably hear something. I've heard of nothing that fits your Blue Spirit's circumstances. He's lying about something. Sorry."

"There's the dagger, though – you said yourself only high-ranked soldiers get them," Sokka argued. "He really knows his weapons, so he was trained. And like I said, I've wondered why his handwriting is so good – being from a well-off family rather than a poor one would explain that handily."

"There's no way he was lying about his mother," Katara added, "or about feeling ashamed of whatever it was he did. He couldn't have faked his reactions to those things, and he especially couldn't have faked the nightmares."

"Hey, I don't know the guy. I'm just telling you that his story doesn't add up," Toph spread her hands apart sharply.

"Okay, it doesn't. He's still proven himself a good ally. That's what's important, right? And if he can teach Aang, whether it's because he was kept captive, because he's half-Fire Nation, or because he's an actual firebender, I'm not going to care about his past all that much." Sokka nodded firmly. He was sure that, whenever they finally got to hear the full story, it would contain a good reason to be afraid of letting people know. Blue must have gone through a lot.

Aang who had been listening quietly, lowered his head. "I just… don't really want to learn firebending," he said. "I still don't think I need to."

"If Blue can teach you, you can just ask him to show you some defensive moves. You don't have to produce any fire yourself," Sokka argued.

Aang looked up. "I suppose that's true…"

Katara put a hand on Aang's shoulder. "He does seem to have been a teacher to you already. Would it be so bad to learn from him?"

"Aside the part where he'd assign me tons of homework?" Aang smiled a little. "I suppose not."

"There you go!" Katara approved. "But actually, I don't think we should ask him if he's a firebender straight out. If he's not – would he forgive us for thinking he was like the people who hurt him? Just ask whether he knows any other moves first." She climbed down Appa's side and began to unroll their tent. He followed to help her, while Aang remained above to pass things down to him.

It sounded reasonable, they all agreed. Toph added, "If he's such a good swordsman as you say, then it's really not likely that he's a firebender, too."

"Why not?" Aang asked.

"Because my parents might have tried to shelter me, but I found out a few things, anyway. In the Fire Nation army, you either use a weapon or you firebend. Rarely both, except for maybe archers – you know, the ones who can set their missiles on fire. It's not like with us, who can use things like heavy hammers to amplify the force of our earthbending. They don't get a lot of training in the Fire army, from what I hear. Not enough to master more than one thing."

"Well, he couldn't have been in any army – too young. Still, that's good to know. Toph, a hand?" Katara said.

"I'm good. You guys picked a great campsite. The grass is so soft."

Sokka glanced over. "That's not grass. Appa's shedding." Katara reacted by saying it was gross, but Toph proved to be really cool and played around with the fur like he and Aang did. They laughed their heads off about it, and even Katara saw the funny eventually. If not for the tension between her and Katara, Sokka would have been ready to call Toph a great addition to the group. Moreso when she was the first one to spot approaching danger. Less when they all hadn't slept and Toph made fun of him, then could find nothing better to do than keep saying that she "carried her own weight" and aggravate Katara, but still. They shouldn't have driven her off.

* * *

><p>Zuko walked for hours before he could be sure that the people in the villages around him did not go anywhere near Chin on market days, and therefore would not resell his stolen goods back where they might be recognized. For his newest guise of an ordinary refugee selling the last of his valuables, he'd taken off the mask and didn't put it back on. The intimidation factor of the scar was useful for haggling, and he was far enough away from the coast here that the people were deeply unlikely to travel there and spread gossip where Azula might hear. The money had been just enough to afford an ostrich-horse. He needed new clothes, too, if ever he ran into anyone who had seen the Blue Spirit, but there was barely enough left even for a day's food. He bought that, then ended up stealing a straw hat from a sleepy old man on a porch and clothing off a clothesline. <em>I'm such an idiot; why didn't I just THINK of what a great spy tool that is; why did I have to encourage him; if he didn't believe me and tries again…<em> Well, he couldn't undo the damage. The patch job would have to do, and he'd hope for the best.

When he passed an odds-and-ends stall on his way out of the village, a bison whistle caught his eye. The merchant was both sharp-eyed and employed a guard, so he paused irresolutely for a moment, then estimated the odds of finding the thing again and spent one of his last few coppers on it. He should have arranged a rendezvous, rather than having to rely on the chances of spotting the Avatar again, but he'd panicked, and over what? Just a simple phrase, really. It could mean anything. Still, he thought he should talk to Uncle, just to make sure. While thoughts along the lines of "wouldn't it be easier just to catch up with the Avatar before he's gone too far? You need to capture him, not go off on ridiculous tangents" often intruded, in the end, if there was a millionth of a chance… When he changed later, the whistle joined the clothes, mask, and slate in their concealment. The bedroll, he didn't attempt to hide, as it was both bulky and not memorable in the way that clothes would be.

The sun beat down unmercifully in this dry land. Even on an ostrich-horse, the roads seemed endless. Zuko had expected a few settlements – according to maps made just a few years ago – but none were still inhabited. No fellow-travellers, either. He did spot one, on the third day of his travels, bent over a pot which smelled delicious. Then, however, the man hurried over to his obviously pregnant wife and they smiled at each other so tenderly that Zuko went on.

He pushed the pace hard enough that he could barely stay awake, but he managed not to fall off after all, and that was good enough for him. The sky itself seemed molten around the sun. Memories and odd fancies churned through his fuzzy mind; Mom featured prominently in both, now that he knew she might still be alive.

A day later, he finally found an inhabited village, but one of obvious and desperate poverty. Instead of the sight of people going about their daily business, almost-empty streets greeted the visitor. He bargained for some food with the last couple of copper coins that he had, but the seller only had ostrich-horse feed left at that price. Zuko settled for that; he didn't have much choice, and he could see that the seller was barely getting by as it was.

The dreary street scene was suddenly enlivened by the actions of two young boys, one of whom threw an egg at men gambling in the street. When Zuko refused to tell them who the culprit was, the men blatantly stole the feed he'd just bought, with a sneer that they appreciated his contribution to their army and a not-so-veiled threat. Zuko considered fighting them then and there, but quickly decided that two bags of feed weren't worth it. Maybe he could find out where they lived and make sure that his next few meals came from their tables.

The merchant, who had also watched the men walk away, explained, "Those soldiers are supposed to protect us from the Fire Nation, but they're just a bunch of thugs." His voice sounded slightly apologetic; Zuko wondered what would have happened to him if there hadn't been a convenient stranger to pick on. Nothing good, probably, but he hadn't told on the children, either.

Speaking of whom, the little boy who threw the egg popped up again just as Zuko had been about to remount. "Thanks for not ratting me out!" His grin had quite a few teeth missing – a bit like Lo Tseng's, but probably due to natural milk-tooth loss rather than a battle. At least, Zuko hoped so. The boy could still smile and play pranks, which was nice, but Zuko couldn't really concern himself with such things. He was too hungry, so he rode away without responding, or tried to. The boy, whose name turned out to actually be Lee, ran to grab the bridle and invited Zuko over to his house, to feed the ostrich-horse. It would be cruel to force the animal to go without. Perhaps there would be no harm in stopping by there.

He hadn't planned for Gansu and Sela, Lee's parents, to be both welcoming and respectful of his desire not to talk about himself. He hadn't planned for the invitation to dinner – which, the moment he tried to refuse, changed to a "food for help" offer. The thought of stealing his supper suddenly became less appealing. After he'd shown exactly how hopeless he was at fixing the roof (though he was proud that by the end, he could generally hammer in one nail out of three without bending it too much, and that the shingles would stay up a little longer before needing to be refixed), they still fed him. They were such a nice family as they talked around the dinner table… Memories of his own family pulled at him. He really ought to move on, but he was tired. Their barn was full of soft, warm, dry hay, and they gave him full permission to use it. He had to sleep somewhere – why not here?

Of course, there had been one drawback – being woken up in the middle of the night by an inquisitive child who wanted to learn swordsmanship. Zuko couldn't blame him, however, since he might have done the same, and it was both funny and pleasant to suddenly be in the role of Lu Ten to Lee. Lee even had an older brother fighting in the war, Sen Su, who had been as wonderful to him as Lu Ten had been to Zuko.

So it cut far worse than Zuko would have thought, to find out the next morning that Sen Su would not be coming back to his family any more than Lu Ten. He knew exactly how this family felt; he understood the devastation which drove Gansu to set off to find his eldest, even though everyone knew it would do no good. When Lee ran to him with his desperate request – "When my dad goes, will you stay?" – Zuko had to work not to say yes. He couldn't fix anything by staying. Lee would find out soon enough that nothing and no one could fill the empty spaces. Too many other responsibilities pulled at Zuko to even consider such a thing seriously, but it was impossible to be so cruel as to leave Lee with nothing.

He didn't have much, but when Lu Ten died and Mom left, he'd still had the dagger and its motto. It helped, as much as anything could. Lee would need something like that now. Without another moment of hesitation, Zuko gave Lee the only gift he could.

He didn't get far that day before fatigue and the weight of grief – both his own and Lee's – forced him to lie down for a little while. Even when he fell into a light doze, the memories pursued him. Dad would never want to kill him. Azula always lied.

The sound of a wagon rescued him from this. It was Sela, frantic with worry over Lee. Zuko hadn't considered what now seemed the obvious consequences of owning a dagger that you didn't really know how to wield in a town ruled by thugs. Uncle was right, he didn't think things through. Now Lee was in the hands of those thugs, and it was Zuko's fault. He had to make it right.

So he did.

Lee was free, and that was the important thing. Zuko couldn't forget how Lee had shrank back behind his mother. Refused the dagger. "No, I hate you!" The looks on the faces of the villagers. Sela, ready to bite should he hurt her boy. In the past, when Zuko had been forced to learn to walk tall and straight with the scar blazing from his face, he'd considered that the most difficult thing he'd ever have to do. He'd been wrong. It was nothing compared to walking through this crowd, whose liking had turned instantly to fear, because he was a firebender.

He wanted to protest, but he knew better.

Lee's family had suffered to the utmost at the hands of the Fire Nation. This whole region had suffered. What had Zuko expected? He'd expected that, when the war was over with a Fire Nation victory, everyone would eventually forgive and forget. They'd see how much better things were, under Fire Nation rule. Villages like this would finally prosper. People would be happy. But it wouldn't bring the dead back.

He should be grateful they hadn't formed a mob and attacked him. Perhaps they were afraid of what a firebender might do. Their fear had protected him. His stomach heaved at the thought. (A stray thought occurred to him – was this why the Avatar had refused to leave without the ridiculous trial? In retrospect, Zuko could see how a trial would look like a much easier way to deal with something like this than walking away.)

He rode away; he still had things to do. In the evening, although he was hungry again, he could hardly eat the food that Sela had packed so lovingly in the morning. The war had been going on all his life. It was a necessary evil, in service to the greater good. He couldn't really believe that, though, not anymore. Something had cracked, and every death count he had ever heard, every man and woman with scars and missing limbs he'd seen, every town stripped to the bone to support the war, every bit of devastation and hopelessness on the faces of people, came pouring through. What, exactly, could they give the rest of the world which would be worth all this?

Every year at Summer Solstice, his grandfather, and later, his father, would stand on the palace steps and give a speech to the nation. For as long as Zuko could remember, every speech contained many words about the need for sacrifice to carry this war through to a successful conclusion. He'd believed those words. The crowds below would listen anxiously and cheer each time. It seemed right, that great goals required great sacrifices.

Every year.

Zuko could see it stretching on an on, a neverending draining effort. Alternatively, the bareswept horror he was sure he had just imagined. (Dad would never want to kill him; Dad would never attack so much as a village, never mind a whole people, dishonorably.) Either way, there would not be the happy, carefree life that everyone deserved after this many sacrifices.

He didn't know what to do. Even capturing the Avatar would not solve all the problems. Was it even the right thing to do anymore? He wasn't sure. It would solve some things, anyway. It would give him the opportunity he needed to speak to his father about all of this; and it would give his words weight and authority rather than just be something said by a complete failure. For lack of any better ideas, he kept moving on the path he'd set for himself; he'd figure it out as he went along. Quietly, guiltily, he imagined hearing one day, "The war is over."

It wasn't over, though, and the next day, he found the tracks of a multi-unit crawler. There was no campaign being carried out nearby, as far as he knew. There were no signs of supporting units around the tracks, either, so it was a solo mission. White fluff had been ground into the tracks by the weight of the vehicle at times. Azula must have used this method of transportation, in pursuit of the Avatar. He followed the tracks and made sure to try to get ahead wherever he could. He knew Azula, too, after all; he could sometimes predict where she would go without needing to follow the specific traces. Luckily, the route did not take him too far from the overall direction of Chailan, and he still had a few days before Uncle's deadline. (Though Zuko could hardly acknowledge it to himself, he was afraid to talk to Uncle now that he was not so sure that Uncle would tell him he was wrong.)

The effort paid off; he caught up with both her and the Avatar in an abandoned town. It took him moments to conceal the swords together with the rest of the Blue Spirit's things, and loop the reins around the nearest solid piece of wood. With that out of the way, he came through a narrow alleyway just in time to hear her say, "Do you really want to fight me?"

"Yes," he answered as he threw his hat to the ground, "I really do." After her behavior aboard the ship, it was true, and now she was trying to take the Avatar, his only chance of getting things right again, away from him. She'd be a terrible Firelord. He wouldn't give up in her favor.

The Avatar seemed surprised to see him. "Zuko!"

"I was wondering when you'd show up, Zuzu," she taunted.

Zuko heard the Avatar laugh at the hated nickname. It was always like this. He'd make it different this time. "Back off, Azula! The Avatar is mine."

Of course it wasn't that easy. It never was. They fought; Zuko concentrated mostly on Azula for the moment, though he didn't neglect to send a few shots in the Avatar's direction. It felt good, after all this time, to fight, and he made more progress against her than usual. He still couldn't win, though. It ended ignominiously, in a pile of rubble this time, and his last clear thought was that Azula would always be better than him.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Uncle. How did he always turn up? Zuko was grateful.

"Get up!" Uncle commanded and helped Zuko back to his feet. Together, they hurried back to the sounds of ongoing fighting. Suddenly, Azula ran their way while looking over her shoulder, so she bounced off of Uncle. They had her cornered. Zuko didn't even care for the moment that it was the Avatar and his allies who maintained the other end of the trap. For a minute, it looked like she would surrender. Then she struck at Uncle.

Zuko yelled involuntarily for a second, then joined the others in blasting her with all he had. He was sure that when he turned around, Uncle would already be sitting up and making bad jokes. He was sure. So when he whirled to look, he didn't want to believe what he saw. He fell to his knees beside Uncle. This was all his fault.

He could sense more than see the Avatar's group approach. "Get away from us!" he screamed. He didn't care that he was letting the Avatar go free again. Uncle was all that mattered.

Katara's voice sounded from behind him. "Zuko, I can help!"

In his despair, he came within a hairsbreadth of trying to drive them away with fire, but it was Katara's sincere voice. The one which she used because she truly enjoyed helping people. He'd almost forgotten, but she was a healer. He'd been sure, after the last time, that icy death would be all she'd ever offer him in his proper persona, but what if she wasn't lying? His shoulders slumped even further. She was a good person, but she hated firebenders, and not without reason. If she was canny enough to use this offer to hurt Uncle… He had to take the risk.

"Fine. But if you try to harm him in any way, I will know, and I… I'll kill you." _Agni, please, let me say that more convincingly._ "I will." He shut up before his shaking voice could give him away any more.

She snorted, but came around to kneel beside Uncle herself. "Very thankful, aren't you?"

He glared at her, but his heart wasn't in it. He put one hand on Uncle's forehead and the other on his arm, then concentrated fiercely on Uncle's inner fire. It flickered so weakly. Zuko would _not_ let it go out. His own inner fire poured down his arms, enveloping and supporting Uncle's. It felt like the lightning fire still smoldered inside the bone and muscle and lashed out at the heart. He focused on carefully extinguishing it without extinguishing the fire which ought to be there. Vaguely, he was aware of Katara pulling out glowing water into the air, then of that water easing through Uncle's injured chest, but that couldn't distract him from his own task.

* * *

><p>Katara hurried to help the fallen general. He might have been an enemy, but he had done the right thing at the North Pole, and he didn't deserve to die like this. She could do this. Oh, Spirits, why hadn't she kept attending Yugoda's lessons? She could feel so much damage, and while she could instinctively work out how to heal it, some actual knowledge would be much more useful right now.<p>

Oddly enough, the general's energy pathways were as strong and clear as those of a healthy man, and the damage almost seemed to be healing itself slowly. She directed her healing water to speed up the process, but the deeper she went, the more she understood that there was something besides her own energy at work. She had never known of anything like this, and yet the other energy seemed almost familiar, somehow.

As soon as the worst of the damage had been healed (it shouldn't be possible to do this much in one session; an injured man didn't have nearly this much energy to spare), she tried to figure this out. The moment she looked up from her patient, things became very clear. Zuko's face was grey and his body shook, and all his concentration was on the general. Since she was still connected with the general's energy pathways, she traced her way to Zuko's hands. Oh, wow, could she have been any more stupid? Could he?

"Zuko, stop," she told him. He didn't seem to hear her. "That's enough! He'll be fine. Let go, or I'll have to heal you, next."

He glared at her, but she could see the naked fear in his expression. "Listen to me, Zuko," she said, as gently as she would to a friend. "Can't you tell for yourself that he'll be fine now? What few things are still wrong can be easily fixed later, and if you don't rest before then, you won't be able to watch over him – so how will you make sure I don't kill him?" she snorted a bit, but that actually seemed effective. The energy coursing through the general slowly weakened and withdrew. What remained, however, was stable. Rest was the main thing they all needed now. She could see Sokka and Toph slumped against a nearby wall and each other with their eyes closed.

Zuko blinked and swayed as he got to his feet. "Blankets," he muttered, "bandages, tea… Uncle will want tea when he wakes." He looked around the burned-out town as if he'd forgotten about the rest of them, but the moment Aang stepped closer to ask, "Uh, Katara, what exactly just happened?" he whirled on Aang in a firebending stance.

Katara put a wall of water between the two of them in a sharp gesture. "That's how you repay our help? You low, no-good, filthy…"

"I'm supposed to believe that you're not going to attack us when we're helpless?" Zuko snarled. "Yeah, such a great feather in the Avatar's cap, capturing the two of us when Uncle can't fight back. Well, go ahead and try!"

Aang sat down crosslegged on the ground and spread his hands. "Not attacking. See? Unlike you, earlier."

Katara slowly began to withdraw her wall of water. Zuko didn't budge. The look he threw at Aang was disturbing. "After what you did, I _should_ attack you, but yes, you've helped."

"What did I do?" Aang asked, very reasonably.

That was the point at which Zuko began to scream incoherently. Sokka and Toph jumped up at the sound, but Zuko didn't look like much of a threat, even with the unsettling amount of flames escaping from his hands and mouth. Eventually, they could all make out something about the North Pole.

"Wait, wait, Zuko," Aang said the moment he could be heard, "slow down. What about the North Pole?"

Zuko staggered back in disbelief. It occurred to Katara that he didn't look very good – dirty and tired, and what had happened to his hair? Eventually, Zuko regained enough control of himself to say clearly, "I knew it. The deaths of all the Fire Nation soldiers just don't count where you're concerned. Get out of my sight."

"I thought you wanted to make a truce!"

"Aang, he was lying about that," Katara whispered. She thought that getting out of here was an excellent idea.

"I wasn't lying, but that was before I found out what kind of a monster you are."

"So let me get this straight," Aang said. "The Fire Navy fleet attacked a peaceful, innocent city, and by helping defend it, I'm the monster?"

Zuko turned away in disgust and went to check on his uncle. "War is one thing. Slaughtering people who have no way to escape is another."

"Where would your soldiers have allowed the Water Tribe to escape?"

Zuko pulled out bandages from somewhere inside his clothes and began to wrap them around the general's torso. Katara noted that while he didn't seem experienced, he never hesitated about how to do it, even though he also had to support his uncle's body at the same time. (Combined with what he'd done earlier, it really made her wonder. She hadn't thought that the Fire Nation had any healers – why else would their own prince be walking around with such a large scar on his face?) As he worked, he spoke, "I'm not going to defend Zhao. The attack on the Water Tribe should never have happened. The soldiers, however, had no choice but to obey their orders. They expected they might die at the hands of the defenders. They didn't know they'd have to face _you_."

"Well, what exactly did you expect us to do? Roll over and give up?"

"I expected," Zuko snarled, "that you would fight honorably. Instead, you turned out to be a coward and a murderer." He ripped off the end of the bandage and began to tuck it in.

Aang jumped to his feet. "I'm not a murderer!"

"Then I suppose I just _imagined_ all the corpses floating in the water?" His arms tightened around his uncle.

Now, Aang staggered back. "What corpses? I didn't mean to kill anyone."

Zuko was shaking again. "Yes, because it's so hard to foresee that when you _smash a ship up_, the people on that ship will drown!"

Aang looked sick. "I didn't know. I was in the Avatar State at the time. It's this process where –"

"I know what it is!"

"Then you know I wasn't entirely myself –"

"Don't you dare," Zuko hissed. "It was you."

"You don't know anything!" Katara yelled at him.

"I spent years reading everything I could about the Avatars," Zuko said. "Yes, your past lives take over. It's still you directing the process."

"I hated it!" Aang interjected, at the same time that she yelled, "You read wrong! Aang is not in control! We found that out the hard way, when an insane General Fong tried to induce the Avatar State artificially. Aang can't help what he does!"

Zuko actually blinked momentarily, but then a look of disgust resettled on his face. "Then explain to me one thing, oh Avatar. Do you know what happened to Zhao?"

Aang shook his head.

"The Ocean Spirit drowned him after you ended your little partnership. I was there. I saw it. It was horrible, but at least you could call it proportionate. All the Ocean Spirit cared about was revenge on the man who killed his beloved. It was you who cared about revenge on the Fire Nation."

"I didn't," Aang whispered, but he no longer sounded certain.

"It's not like I don't understand why you might have wanted revenge, but you don't even have the decency to admit it!" Zuko yelled. "Forget it. Go away. I'm giving you this one chance to get away, because I have to take care of Uncle. Either go ahead and try to capture us like you want, or go away."

"Why would I want to capture you?" Aang blinked. "All I ever wanted was for you to stop trying to capture me!"

"Well, that's too bad. I can't."

"But you just said that you were giving Aang a chance to get away," she interjected.

"Because that's the honorable thing to do," he glared at her. "It's a one-time-only offer."

"Honor again," she snorted. "What, did you gain some since last time?"

He snarled, but then visibly restrained himself. "I don't have time to argue with you. Uncle needs help, so I need to get my pack and find where he left his, and I am not going to leave him alone so long as you are here. For the last time, go away!"

Toph stepped forward. "You mean this pack?" She stomped her foot and a roll of belongings arced in and landed very near Zuko.

He blinked at her, then scrambled to get the bindings open and pulled out some blankets. "Thanks. I don't suppose you could do that trick with firewood?" he threw over his shoulder at Toph.

"Not really," she admitted.

Zuko shook out a blanket before wrapping it around his uncle, and Katara stared. Some of the cloth lying on the ground was undyed grey wool, but other bits, including that particular blanket, were beautifully patterned in shades of blue. "Where'd you get those?" Katara demanded. "Those are obviously of Water Tribe make!"

"Are you trying to accuse me of stealing again? It's getting very old." He looked around the square again, and his gaze settled on one of the less-destroyed buildings.

"Answer the question!"

With a grunt, Zuko managed to lift the General and staggered towards that building. Katara followed him. "Answer me!"

"Busy."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me! Did you kill someone?"

He shook his head. Katara wanted to hit him, but suddenly, felt a restraining hand on her arm. "Can't you wait a minute? Who requires more immediate attention, you or an injured elderly man, even if he weren't the guy's uncle?"

Katara sputtered. Zuko carried his uncle inside and turned to go back for the rest of the blankets, only to see Toph present them to him. He took them from her, clearly surprised, and spread them out, then moved his uncle onto them and covered him up again. When he was done, he looked up. "You seem more sensible than the rest of them right now. Can you convince them to go away until I can at least get a fire going?"

"Name's Toph, thanks for asking," she answered. "What do you need a fire for? It's warm enough here already."

"Firebender – draw strength from your element – understand? Plus, Uncle will want tea."

Toph nodded. "All right. Let's go, Sugar Queen."

"Not until he answers me!"

"Fine!" Zuko huffed. "I had to leave Uncle on a Water Tribe ship to get his arm healed. I expect either he paid them for the blankets, or they were a present." His voice slowed down. "He was supposed to be safe. He wasn't supposed to be here. I told him I'd come find him…"

Katara felt a twinge of sympathy at that, but told herself that Zuko was probably putting on a show for her benefit. "That's a likely story. A firebender, on a Water Tribe ship, and you just left him there?"

"He needed immediate medical attention, we were disguised as Earth Kingdom, in case you haven't noticed, and Uncle was friends with one of them. Master Pakku, I think his name was."

"What? Master Pakku would never – never!"

"I don't understand it, either, but Uncle always makes friends in the unlikeliest of places."

Her fists clenched, but once again, Toph pulled her back. "I can personally attest to that. So, because he is my friend, and you're interfering with his proper care – let's go, or I'll drag you out of here!"

* * *

><p>Katara's head turned sharply into her direction, and her heartbeat sped up indignantly, but Toph would not let that move her. With a casual display of strength, she pulled on Katara's arm, satisfied with the way that Katara had to follow.<p>

For a moment back there, she had been horrified to find out that the cool old guy was a firebender. More when she put two and two together – if this was Prince Zuko, then his uncle could only be General Iroh. She'd had tea with the only man ever to break through the walls of Ba Sing Se! Toph had been six at the time, but even in her house, there had been worried conversations about what that might mean for their safety. As quickly as the Fire Nation broke through, however, the whole army just up and left, and no one knew exactly why.

Toph had been fairly shielded from the war, so she didn't have the knee-jerk reactions of most people to the notion of being friends with a firebender. He was a cool guy, she had felt that he was sincere when he said that he had not been trying to patronize her, and he gave excellent advice. That was good enough for her. He loved his nephew in a way that she could only wish her parents loved her, and it seemed that his nephew loved him right back. At least, judging by the terrified thumping of his heart and the way he did not care about anything else, that was true.

Katara's indignant protests that Zuko must be lying didn't sit well with her, even if she wasn't quite sure enough of these people yet to know whether they might laugh at her if she tried to announce how she knew. As they made their way back to the others, then out of the town and up the mountain to where Appa and Momo were, Toph had had enough. "Shut it. What exactly do you think he's going to do, with his uncle so injured? Let's all get some sleep. You can continue your interrogation in the morning."

"I don't trust him!"

"Me neither!" Sokka put in quickly.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time. He's not going to kill us in our sleep, though, is he? Not with me right here, ready to wake up at the slightest footfall."

Aang yawned. "Toph's right. Appa's too tired to go any further tonight. We need to sleep, and then we can talk to him in the morning."

"Sleep is goooood," Sokka spread his arms to illustrate the exact size of that goodness, "but not with the enemy beside us! No offense, Toph."

"Why do we need to talk to him at all?" asked Katara.

Aang sighed. "Remember what Blue said, about needing to know the enemy? It's sounding more and more like a good idea, and here we can just ask outright."

"Assuming he's going to talk to us, and that he even knows what the truth looks like!" That was Katara.

"Well, what do you suggest instead? Do you realize that it was Princess Azula we just fought? I'm starting to think that it's not such a good idea if she ends up being Firelord."

"What?" Toph yelled. "She tried to kill her own uncle?" How did such a cool old guy end up with such an evil niece?

"Well, it was bad of her, but… I could see wanting to kill Zuko. The general, less so, but maybe she still had good reason to attack. She must know him well, after all," Katara argued.

"You don't know what you're talking about! I met him once. I knocked him down, and then he gave me tea and some very good advice. He really cares about his family. She couldn't have attacked him for anything but imagined wrongs!"

"You may be right, Toph," said Aang. "Katara, you didn't get to talk to her like I did before we fought. She was… well, I don't know how to describe it, but she gave me the creeps. It's worse than we thought, because it looks like no one in that family will stop the war, but we should still find out as much as we can."

"Iroh would," Toph defended her new friend.

"Iroh who?"

"General Iroh, the Dragon of the West, the one you just healed? Ring any bells?"

Sokka yelped. "Wait, we healed that guy? He was the one who convinced Yue… How do you know it was him?"

"My tutors made me memorize all the important family trees, of course."

"How is that family important? They're all crazy, obviously!"

"All the more reason to know who you're dealing with, when they're only the ruling family of the nation waging war on everyone else! Isn't that what Blue tried to tell you? And Iroh isn't crazy, and he's not evil!" Toph stomped her foot and knocked Sokka off his feet with a well-placed earth tremor. "Among the things you should know is that he was supposed to become Firelord, not his younger brother Ozai. No one knows exactly why that didn't happen, though it might have had something to do with the siege – which the General ended just when it looked like he was going to win. There were rumors that he was considered too kind-hearted by his father, and right now, I'm inclined to believe that that's exactly what happened."

"Thanks, Toph!" Aang said. "You're right, that's definitely something we need to know. Maybe there's hope for a kinder sort of Firelord after Ozai's defeat, after all!"

"Don't celebrate too early," Sokka muttered.

"Okay, let's go with that for the moment," Katara said. She sounded exhausted. "Sleep, everyone?"

"Finally!" Sokka collapsed the rest of the way onto the ground and the rest of them followed, too tired to set up camp of any sort.

* * *

><p>Sokka slept uneasily, because no one could convince him that being this near the enemy was a good idea. When a few hours later, Toph startled awake and moved away, he woke up too. Muzzy-headed, he tried to figure out what was wrong, and when he couldn't find Toph, he nearly panicked. A faint scraping sound didn't make his panic any better, and he ran for the sound with weapons drawn.<p>

Toph's outstretched hand smacked into his chest to stop him. "Don't worry, Snoozles, I've got her. Go back to sleep."

Her? In the dim light, Sokka could just make out a column of earth surrounding someone. The person held her head low, so that Sokka couldn't make out who it was, but definitely not the girl they'd fought earlier.

"Hey," a raspy voice sounded. "You're the boy who took care of my brother. Thank you."

"Who-what-what?"

"I assume you returned him by now?" The voice was much cooler now.

"Wait, you're the dagger girl? You've got some nerve, after betraying him like that, and fighting me just hours ago, I might add!"

"Betray him? You think it would have been better for him if I went against Azula at that particular moment? Or the hours-ago moment?"

Sokka paused. Okay, after he'd seen Azula in action, he could kinda see her point. "All right, maybe not, but where I come from, we take care of our family!"

"That's what I was trying to do. Did you return him to my parents?"

"Aang did. He said they were very happy to see him."

"I don't doubt it." She sounded coolly amused.

He pulled himself back together. She was the one who should be answering questions. "What are you doing here? Come back for a rematch?"

"No, actually. Not everything revolves around you, you know."

He leaned in and tried to intimidate her. "Answer the question, or it won't go well for you."

She didn't look intimidated, and he scowled. "We're not letting you go, then."

"If you don't let me go, Ty Lee is not going to be able to cover for me with Azula forever, and then you'll have her to deal with all over again. Is that what you really want?"

He sputtered. She sighed. "Oh, very well. I needed to deliver a message to Zuko. I assume he's still somewhere around here, with his uncle injured, or did you take the opportunity to kill him?"

"Maybe we did."

"No," Toph put in angrily. "Sokka, stop it, that was cruel. I don't think she's lying."

"Toph, you need to be more careful. Even if she isn't, why do you think it's a good idea for our two groups of enemies to communicate with each other?"

"Because," the girl sounded exasperated, "it's still not about you. Zuko's got worse problems than your bunch, and I need to warn him about those. I assume even you are smart enough to understand the value of your 'enemy' having to deal with someone else."

"You're working for Azula, and you expect us to trust you?"

"I'm working _with_ Azula," the girl corrected. "It's a lot safer than working against her, and I do owe her a lot."

"She wouldn't approve of your little midnight expedition," Toph said unexpectedly.

"Someone gets it."

"So you are in a way working against her."

The girl sighed. "Zuko and Azula are both my friends, and that's never been an easy balance to strike. I do what I can."

The wall around her disappeared. "Toph, what are you doing?" Sokka hissed even as he raised his weapon.

"She's not a threat to us," Toph declared confidently.

Sokka would have had a lot to say about naïve earthbenders, but the girl spoke again. "Fine, I can see you're not happy. I'm not going to stop you from doing whatever it is you're trying to do. Just don't get too much in my way."

"I'm going back to bed," Toph said.

"I'm not," Sokka glared at the girl.

Both of them ignored him. Sokka tightened his grip on his machete and followed the girl, who began to search the town house by house. Why did this have to be his life, instead of the warm bed he deserved? He cleared his throat and pointed. "He was over there last I saw. Hurry it up."

She barely nodded to him and went in the direction indicated. Within a minute, they could both see the flickering of a small campfire. Through the rents in the wall, Sokka could see Zuko slumped against the wall, asleep. They didn't get very close, however, before he jumped to his feet to face them. The movement reminded Sokka of Blue, and he closed his eyes in disgust. Firebenders. Why did they have to ruin everything? His home, the lives of so many people, the entire world… wreck it so far that nothing escaped their touch. Blue, who created his own fighting style by watching others – what must it have felt like, copying the enemy, hating it yet knowing that he would not survive if he didn't?

Once Zuko got a good look, all he did was breathe, "Mai?"

"I don't have much time," she answered, and was it his imagination, or did her voice just get a shade warmer? "Ty Lee's covering for me, but I ran into an earthbending girl, and then this idiot showed up to delay me and insisted on following. This has everything, though." She produced a rolled-up scroll and handed it over to him.

Zuko rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Sokka isn't an idiot," he muttered, which startled Sokka enormously. He held the scroll gingerly.

"Maybe not, since I hear that Tom-Tom is safe now. No, it's not good news," she said gently, as if answering a question. Zuko nodded wearily and tucked it inside his tunic. The girl reached over to take his hands and Sokka turned away in disgust. Their voices lowered, and he was afraid of what he might hear next, but all she asked was "How is he? Azula didn't say much."

"Not well," Zuko answered with strain in his voice. "Better now, though."

Sokka's previous memories of the old man mostly included a voluminous robe and lots of fire. Now, he didn't look dangerous, with his big stomach, pale face, and layers of bandages, but that didn't mean anything. With just a few words, he'd ensured Yue's death. Sokka knew that Yue would have made the sacrifice, anyway. That was the kind of good person she was. Some nights, however, he would stare up at the moon and wonder whether it might not have been better if the general had said nothing and Yue didn't realize the power she held.

Fucking firebenders. Glowworm bastards, the lot of them, except Blue, if he was one. Sokka hoped not.

Mai must have turned around because her voice sounded louder now. "Ty Lee and I put this together, too. It's not much – just some burn ointment, and tea, and Ty Lee wrote down a few of the jokes she'd heard at the circus."

"Circus?" Zuko asked.

"She ran away a year ago to join the circus, and she loved it there. Then, of course, Azula decided that this mission was more important." Her voice was flat, without any indication of approval or disapproval, but Sokka thought he was beginning to understand some things about the way these people worked.

"How much more important?" Zuko asked with a bitter edge.

"Burning safety nets as the least of it – that level of more important."

Zuko made a harsh sound. "Tell Ty Lee I appreciate what she's just done very much."

"I will."

There was a brief silence, then, "Since I'm the fool who managed to trade away all his medical supplies, the burn ointment is priceless. Thank you, Mai."

"What did you trade them for?" she asked in a bored tone.

"Food."

"Well, let me see. I need food every day, and medicines, almost never. Sounds like a reasonable choice to me." Zuko didn't answer. She made a hmm-ing noise. "I ought to have thought of bringing some money."

"No! I can manage." He sounded embarrassed. "But it's a good idea to keep some money on you at all times – for yourself. You never know what might happen."

"Good point." There was another long silence. Sokka turned to peer at them suspiciously, but didn't catch them in anything. Mai let go of Zuko's hands and stepped past him. "Make some fresh tea," she tossed over her shoulder. "Let me guess, your uncle still hasn't let you near the teapot in all these years?"

He actually laughed a little. Sokka hadn't known Zuko could laugh. "Yes," he acknowledged ruefully.

Now that she mentioned it, the smell of overstewed tea hung in the air. Sokka saw a patch of the floor stained with tea leaves – unsuccessful attempts, it looked like. On the other hand, when did Zuko first put the tea on? He must have been making pot after pot for hours, while waiting for his uncle to wake up.

Mai left and Sokka left after her. He told himself she could still be planning an attack, but he didn't really believe it. When she reached the edge of the town, he stopped following her and returned to bed. Sleep, beautiful sleep…


	17. What's the Royal Family's Deal?

**A/N:** First, thanks for valuable criticism to Squidcats! Sokka's POV in Ch. 16 has now been revised to make his reactions to Zuko and Iroh more understandable.

Second, several of you have asked whether Aang's and Iroh's people-finding skills are the same, which means even more of you are wondering. They're not – I meant for them to be two entirely separate techniques used to accomplish similar ends. However, I am stumped as to how to show that in-fic, given that at this point in time, neither Aang nor Iroh even know about the other, so can't compare. It's not going to come up for another few chapters, which is a long time to keep people wondering. If any of you have ideas, I'd be very happy to hear them. (There has been some discussion on what exactly the differences are in my LJ thread, in ch. 16 replies to Kally Lass and Nys to be exact, if you are curious).

Now, on the story, with its long, long conversation, which didn't even fit entirely into this chapter.

**Chapter 17**

Iroh drifted through memories – all of which involved his son. Except for the last one, they were happy, and even the misery of kneeling at the shrine after his son's death felt almost insubstantial here. He knew that he just needed to reach out, and he would see Lu Ten again. Almost, he could feel it, when something shattered his peaceful drifting. A voice called to him. "Uncle." Not the voice he wanted to hear. Not the name he wished to be called by. For a moment, Iroh almost hated that voice.

Other memories returned, though. There was still one person holding him to this world, and Iroh didn't actually want to forget Zuko, not even for Lu Ten. A particular memory nudged at him – six year old Zuko discovering with surprise that "Uncle" was not Iroh's actual name. The little boy had tried for a while to call him by name, but in the end, he gave up, because, as he earnestly explained, "It feels weird." "Uncle" meant so much more to the both of them, and Iroh had loved it. He unglued his eyes to see Zuko leaning over him with a concerned look on his face. "You were unconscious. Azula did this to you."

With consciousness, other things returned, like the pain when Iroh tried to sit up. "It was a surprise attack," Zuko concluded.

"Somehow, that's not so surprising." Iroh pushed with his feet and managed to lean against the wall behind him. His entire left side sparked and throbbed with pain, but less than he would have expected, considering the amount of bandages. Azula might not have hit his heart, but she came close. How was he still alive?

On seeing that he did not want to lie down again just yet, Zuko handed a cup of tea to him. "I hope I made it the way you like it."

Iroh nearly choked on taking a sip (_note to self: Zuko urgently needs training in proper tea-making; don't take no for an answer_). However, he was thirsty enough to take another swallow, and managed to smile at Zuko's anxious look. "Mmm, good. That was very, uhh… bracing!"

Zuko didn't smile back, so he probably knew that Iroh flattered him, but poured a refill. Iroh tossed it out the window the moment Zuko looked away. The anxious look didn't go away, so Iroh was not particularly surprised when Zuko looked up and said, "There's been some bad news."

"Mm?"

"Azula – Azula – I don't know how she could, but she didn't learn her lesson from injuring you. Well, at least she's apparently too tired to come back right away to try again, but anyway, Mai passed along the information that Azula was embarrassed by her failure to capture either us or the Avatar. Embarrassed enough that she did her usual thing of claiming we're not worth her time and went with a different plan. She's going to hire a unit called the Rough Rhinos to pursue us, until next she feels like chasing us herself."

"Old friends of mine!" Iroh enthused. "Also an excellent singing group!" So that was why he was still alive – he was meant to be deadweight. Well, Azula had miscalculated.

"Good enough friends that they will refuse to follow Azula's orders?"

"Hmm, probably not," he acknowledged. He cast a sideways glance at Zuko. "Mai has told you this, you say?"

Zuko actually blushed. "I've had a chance to talk with her recently. She'll do what she can to keep Azula away from us." His voice was suffused with a kind of pleased embarrassment. Finally! Iroh had long since begun to worry about Zuko – his nephew seemed to completely ignore the warmer side of life, whether with boys or with girls. Mai, eh? On the few occasions he'd seen the children playing together, he'd noticed that Mai had a bit of a crush on his nephew. Zuko seemed to like her, too, but Iroh hadn't realized those childhood feelings had persisted this long.

Zuko began to blush again under Iroh's thoughtful gaze. "Anyway," he hastily continued, "it's only been a few hours and it's nighttime yet, so you should rest some more, but as soon as you are well enough, we'll need to leave, in order to keep ahead of them. What are you doing here, anyway? Weren't you able to get to Chailan?"

"Pakku was kind enough to deliver me there," he assured Zuko, "and I stayed with another friend, but you know how it is. I suppose I felt the need to stretch my legs a bit," he smiled.

Zuko crossed his arms. "Right. You felt the need to stretch your legs all the way to here, and you just happened to find me right in the middle of a battle. Not that I don't appreciate it, but how did you do that?"

Iroh grinned widely, which caused Zuko to scowl more and distracted him further. Iroh did not plan to give up one of his few advantages so easily. "I'll explain another time. In the meantime," he began to straighten up, not without a grimace.

Zuko leapt up and hovered between supporting him and trying to push him back down. "You're not well enough."

"I thought you wanted to leave quickly?"

"You won't be able to travel far with that injury. Lie down. I'll see if Katara is still nearby as soon as it gets light out."

Iroh threw a sharp glance at Zuko. "The waterbender girl? The one with the Avatar?"

"She healed you," Zuko explained. "We arranged a temporary cease-fire for that. Don't look at me like that! I had no choice!"

Iroh sank back down onto his bedding. "I'm merely surprised, Prince Zuko." Surprised was not the word. Yes, he had suspected that Zuko was beginning to question the wisdom of trying to capture the Avatar, but that he had been able to obtain – and accept – help from the Avatar's group seemed very impressive, given his track record with them.

Zuko didn't calm down. "Your survival is good for the Fire Nation. I had to do it."

With effort, Iroh avoided rolling his eyes. "I understand."

Zuko exhaled. "Also, Uncle, I've been thinking. Since this pursuit of us is going to continue, I'm going to need to know more advanced firebending if I want to stand a chance against Azula or the people she sends. I know what you're going to say: she's my sister and I should be trying to get along with her."

Did Zuko somehow miss the part where Azula had just tried to kill them? "No, she's crazy, and she needs to go down." Zuko gave a small nod, but looked very unhappy. "It's time to resume your training," he continued, but even that wasn't enough to cheer Zuko up.

"There's more, Uncle. Mai found out that Zhao's words first started the whole thing with you being called a traitor. One of the soldiers with Zhao, who survived and was later ransomed, reported on what happened at the oasis, but I don't understand! If Father knows what happened, he should have no reason to think you're a traitor, but from what Mai heard, he does, and he's very angry!"

"I thought it might be something like that," he shrugged. A yawn escaped him.

"But it's so unreasonable! We all need the moon. I don't – I don't know if he would listen to me anymore. Mai said he sent Azula out to capture us the moment he heard. Both of us, not just you, even though he just considered me a f-failure at that point in time. Why would he do that?"

Oh, what a question. Iroh still had no idea how to answer it. Before he could figure anything out, Zuko rambled on. "Maybe Azula lied about that, too. Maybe she misunderstood her orders. Do you think that's possible? I never thought she would hurt you like that. Maybe she didn't know her own strength…"

"Stop." Iroh beckoned Zuko over and sat up again to sling an arm around his nephew. His head swam a bit with the effort, but then cleared. "Nephew, why are you looking for reasons in the unreasonable?" Zuko's head hung in defeat. Enlightenment struck. "You don't want to believe that Azula is crazy."

"She's my sister," Zuko mumbled. "She's smart, she can outthink anyone – her mind has always been very clear. There's no point in – she couldn't want to hurt you."

Iroh sighed. "It's hard to believe, isn't it? Nonetheless, Zuko, you have to look at her actions clearly. She knew what she was doing, and she did it without hesitation." A pained sound escaped Zuko. "It's our family's big flaw. We all have a tendency to get so focused on a goal, we lose sight of everything else, even those things which should keep us sane. That is when we must trust to others to pull us back, but Azula stopped listening to anyone a long time ago." Zuko didn't respond. "When _is_ the last time you can remember her listening to others?"

"When she was three, maybe?" Zuko answered dully.

"You see?"

"If that's the case, then I should have done more to pull her back."

"Perhaps we all should have, but none of us can live solely to correct another's mistakes. You were too young for such responsibility, and then you had too many of your own problems, which people should have done more to help you with."

Zuko shook his head. "What are we going to do?"

"I have made some arrangements," Iroh smiled. "Hand me my bag – thank you. Look here!" he produced two Earth Kingdom passports.

Zuko examined the documents, then looked up with a clear question in his eyes.

"We should head for Ba Sing Se," Iroh explained. "The city is filled with refugees, and no one will notice two more. It's the safest place in the world from the Fire Nation! Even I couldn't break through." Not to mention, that was where the gathering of the White Lotus Society was scheduled to occur over the next couple of months.

"Actually – aside from the fact that you did break through – the last thing Mai mentioned was that Azula planned to use a giant drill, just recently developed, to break down those walls."

His little niece was all grown up and trying to upstage her elders, it seemed. "She'll still have to deal with their defending army," he pointed out.

"She'll have the full support of our army."

"That's a problem," Iroh frowned. Most of their battle-experienced members had a long way to travel, not to mention ongoing business to wrap up, so they might not arrive in time to help. He wondered if it was safe to suggest that they should warn the people of Ba Sing Se. His thoughts tangled with fatigue; his eyes began to close almost involuntarily.

"We'll figure something out, but I also needed to talk to you about a few things."

"Hmm?"

"The good news is, I found out that my mother might still be alive."

Iroh's eyes snapped open. "How? Ozai told me that she died of a sudden illness."

"What? That's – why would he say that? He knew she disappeared! Or – did he know where she went?" Zuko's voice was sharp with distress, and Iroh tried to ask him to clarify, but the words which came out of his mouth were rather slurred. "Sorry, Uncle, I shouldn't have interfered with your rest. We'll finish this later." Iroh lay down and Zuko helped him pull the blanket over himself; he was asleep again in moments.

* * *

><p>"Right," Jee addressed the hastily-assembled people in front of him – those who had proven most trustworthy. Despite the dawn hour and the yawns, they listened attentively. "To recap, we've had recent Avatar sightings here, here, and here." Also a point of intersection with the Blue Spirit, but that was his private conjecture for now. He gestured at the map. "Not a straight line, but one that generally approaches a southeastern direction. It's too much out of the way if he's heard about the airships already, even for someone trying to sneak around."<p>

"Speaking of which," Tienlun called, "how's the plan to get me in going?"

Jee frowned slightly at being interrupted, but he couldn't fault Tienlun's eagerness. "We're working on it. Seems to be going well – you're a top-rated engineer, which to some, excuses even your sins. As I was saying. There's nothing much in that direction – except perhaps, eventually, the Eastern Air Temple, and we know that's been empty except for a not-all-there old man. Now, he could be taking a winding route to Ba Sing Se. Either way, we'll need to go to the Eastern Lake. Furthermore, just tonight Lo Tseng picked up information about a coded high-priority message from Princess Azula to one of the local commanders. We don't know what was in it, but it doesn't seem like she succeeded in capturing anyone – we'd have heard of that. What we do know is that she changed her direction to head into the mountains on the eastern side of the Western Lake, but not too near to Ba Sing Se. There's another secret project being worked on there, a smaller one. The first question is, which trail do we follow if we still want to find General Iroh and Prince Zuko? Which we probably do – recruitment has really slowed down lately. We need something to push people past their fear."

"I say, forget about the princess. Secret projects mean she's lost interest. Let her have her secret project – one problem less for us," said Zhen.

Jee shook his head. "Even if that's so, the second question is, we just got new orders ourselves. Apparently, they now want us again, on a slightly more essential patrol. That is, near the airship factory. The joy of becoming obsolete is in guarding our replacements. Someone will notice if we don't arrive. If we go there, however, we'll constantly be in sight of other ships, and won't be able to follow either the Avatar's trail or Princess Azula's. So – ideas?"

A babble of suggestions on how to lose the orders for a time most effectively rose up, until Zhen interrupted. "Wait, do we want to show our hand quite that badly? And we did want to learn more about the airships, anyhow, since they're obviously going to be important. No offense, Tienlun, but why should you have all the glory? How about – we obey the orders, but go around south and up, instead of the obvious route? That'll allow us to sail by Ba Sing Se, then near Princess Azula's location, then the airship base."

"And how do we explain taking a four-times-longer route? You know, I'm willing to do my share, but even 'I was drunk' is not going to be that convincing, is it?"

"When was the last time we updated the rest of the Navy on our supposed position?"

"Six days ago."

"Yes, so weren't we supposed to be pretty far down south at that point? Say, we had received different orders already to investigate something on the southern coast, and headed there. Pick the right Admiral, and even if they check, they might not be able to figure it out. Then another set of orders to investigate something towards the east. It'll seem like we're working hard to get back in their good graces."

A hubbub arose. "Workable!" Lo Tseng interrupted the objections. "Have to think of something for the south coast, but Admiral Misaki has been yelling by hawk at all the other admirals about losing ships in the region near Chameleon Bay. Water Tribe interference, apparently. Since the whole airship thing has started, she's gotten less support than she should. I send a letter from the captain, dated two days ago, that we're coming to investigate, being otherwise unoccupied at present. Then, if anyone tries to interfere, we don't even need to do anything. Once she's gotten her teeth into something, she doesn't let go."

"Water Tribe? More trouble than we need. Pass," Wen said.

"What, scared?" challenged Tienlun.

Wen gave him a look. "You weren't there, and you're probably going to be off riding in the air, so you're one to talk."

"Weren't where?" Jee asked.

"Don't you… no, that's right, that was before your time. Si, you remember, right?"

"Not much – fever from that fetid Earth Kingdom backwater got me just before the attack, and I only heard the details afterwards."

"Oh yeah. Sorry, man." Wen looked at the confused faces around him. "It was a couple years ago on Prince Zuko's ship, soon after we ran the East Coast gauntlet. That itself was a nightmare and a half. Anyway, we were finally sailing west, past the big islands. Low on food, low on ammo, a third of our crew down with either fever or injuries, and still over a week to go before we reached any of the colonies. Eight bloody Water Tribe ships came out of nowhere, and they put something underwater to damage our propeller, so we couldn't outrun them. They meant business, I tell you. Baying for blood – you never heard a sound like that. With our one catapult, the best we could do was keep them back slightly – savages they might be, but they changed damaged rigging in _minutes_. We used up half our remaining ammo just to get _one_ of their ships out of the picture. They had their own versions of catapults which fired odd pieces of barbed metal – if one of those hit, it ripped through our hull like through paper, and what one did to poor Li Ong doesn't bear describing. We had our firebenders welding metal patches on while the rest of us pumped like mad, and still nearly went down. Our one bit of blessing was that they had no waterbenders with them."

"But you're here to tell the tale, so we can obviously defeat them," Tienlun argued.

Wen shook his head. "Maybe. Maybe not. In the end, it required a lot of ingenuity, serious firebending talent, and luck. They stayed on our tail the whole day, getting ever closer, and General Iroh started making noises about how Prince Zuko should try to escape under cover of darkness, because it was going to be slaughter once they got aboard. Well, the kid started yelling about honor – you know the stuff – and with some input from the rest of us, cobbled together the plan. We had those fishing nets, you see, the ones with the glass floats, which we'd been using without much luck in the fish department. Now, it turns out, there's air inside the floats – not a lot, but enough for fire. I'm not a bender, so I may be mixing up some details, but I heard there was the technical problem that if you try to just ignite the inside of a float, the fire will use up the air very quickly and go out. But if you have enough skill, you can keep the fire to the tiniest spark for a while. Then you can control fire at a greater distance than you could throw it."

"That sounds right, but how would it help?"

Wen grinned. "You'll never guess! So we coated the floats and the nets with the last of our kai-grade pitch – that's the one which will burn even underwater. It was a moonless night, thank all the Spirits. When it got dark enough, we put the floating nets overboard right in the path of the Water Tribe ships. We knew they'd keep tracking us by sound, or by the trajectory of any fireballs we catapulted their way, so we made sure to make some sound. We had to let them come closer in order for our firebenders to be able to keep their fire under control over that distance. So at half the distance, the floats were lit just a tiny bit – the pitch hid the light. The firebenders sweated like crazy, but three of them managed to keep control. As soon as we heard the sound of breaking glass, the firebenders let the fire out. It was great! By the time the bastards understood what was going on, the pitch had already stuck to the wooden hulls and burned like crazy. Now _they_ were the ones running around and trying to patch things up, and right at the waterline, they couldn't weld the damage like we could. We only really damaged two of their ships, but the others had to evacuate those two and put out the rest, and they were kept busy trying to figure out how to do that without getting any more of their ships on fire. In the meanwhile, we went as noiseless as possible and gave them the slip."

After the laughter and approving noises died down a bit, Tienlun announced, "Well, why couldn't we do something like that again? Sure, they'd be expecting the trick now, but I don't see how they could defend against it much."

"The problem is that we're still on one ship with two catapults. Also, every single one of the firebenders was pretty much sacked out in bed for days afterwards – it was a heavy strain on them. If we don't do enough damage, or don't get away quickly enough, you want to fight crazy people bristling with weapons without fire support? I don't."

"All right, no actual tangling with the Water Tribe," Jee decided. "Still, Chameleon Bay is the body of water nearest to Ba Sing Se. Coming to investigate does give us a good excuse, and we don't need to get close in order to scout a bit. If we practice the trick, we might be able to improve on it, too, maybe enough to give us the advantage."

* * *

><p>Despite the lingering fatigue from all the excitement of the previous couple of days, Aang woke earlier than usual and jumped to his feet. "Today's the day!" he announced. "Can you believe it? After all that time searching for a teacher, I'm finally starting earthbending! We just need to find a good rocky place, and there's lots of that all around!"<p>

Sokka rolled over and moaned at him angrily without opening his eyes.

"Oh, you're still sleeping, huh?" Sokka flopped back down. "Sorry!"

Toph, on the other hand, jumped up too, and the ground shook with the force of her landing. "_Good_ morning earthbending student!"

"Good morning, Sifu Toph," he answered, which prompted a sleepy complaint from Katara that he had never called her "Sifu." He could only twitch nervously in response. His admiration for Katara did contain a lot of respect for her teaching skills, but went well beyond the place where he wanted her to think of him as just a student. To explain this, however, would probably not be good. Not good at all.

At that point, Sokka complained again. Toph apologized at first, then booted him into the air with a large spike of rock. Sokka was livid on landing and stumbled away without ever fully waking up.

"This is how you treat your friends?" a hoarse voice interrupted. They turned to see Zuko walking towards them. He held out his hands palms up, then interlaced them to show that he would not try to firebend.

"It's just in good fun!" Toph defended herself.

He snorted. "When Katara wakes up – in the natural way – let her know that my uncle could use another healing session."

"I'm up," Katara muttered as she rubbed her eyes. "Just give me a minute."

"How is he?" Toph asked quickly.

Zuko's mouth tightened. "He regained consciousness a couple of hours ago, but couldn't stay awake for longer than fifteen minutes and hasn't been awake since."

"Did he seem lucid? Did he complain of anything? Any signs of infection?" Katara asked in a professional tone of voice.

"Perfectly lucid, but very tired. He didn't complain – he never does – but I could tell he was in a lot of pain, and it seemed like he had trouble breathing at times. I didn't see any signs of infection, but it was hard to tell against the redness of the burn."

"Right, I'll take a look with the water. Pain – we have some herbs for that." Katara pulled out the pouch of herbs that Blue had given them and began to dig through it.

They all startled at a sudden burst of laughter from Zuko. To Aang, it didn't sound good – half-hysterical, maybe?

"What's so funny?" Katara demanded.

"N-nothing." Hysteria, definitely. Aang noticed that Toph narrowed her eyes at Zuko as if she didn't believe him, either.

Katara stood up and handed half of a dried bunch to Zuko. "You know how to use this? Let's go."

Zuko nodded and led the way. Momo awoke when Aang picked him up, then suddenly flew upwards and made a couple of loops around Zuko, squeaking excitedly for some reason. A rude "What do _you_ want?" was what he got for his efforts; he made a sad, questioning noise, then flew back to Aang and burrowed. "It's not you, Momo," he murmured as he stroked the upset lemur. "Zuko's like that with everybody." He raised his voice. "Hey! While Katara works, I had some questions to ask you!"

"I have nothing to say to you."

Katara stopped. "If Aang wants to ask you something, and believe me, I don't know why he would bother, you will _answer_ him."

He measured her with a look. She didn't budge. "Right," he answered bitterly. "After all, what is my uncle's life worth compared to the great Avatar's need to chatter on and on?"

Surprisingly, it was Toph who played the peacemaker. "Don't be so hard on Sugar Queen. She did help your uncle when she didn't have to, and she will again. She's just a little tense about how to show she cares." The way Toph said that last, it was laden with innuendo, which Aang didn't quite get, but it broke the standoff. Zuko sighed and began to walk again. Shortly, they arrived back at the building where the injured man lay.

Katara knelt by him and began to do her healing stuff while Zuko occupied himself by dumping out some tea and putting a pinch of the herbs Katara gave him into the pot. He then put more water on the small fire. Toph leaned against the wall; her eyes focused on nothing, of course, but Aang had the feeling she was watching them all. Or was she? Part of the floor was made of wooden planks.

With a mental note to ask Toph later, he sat down across from Zuko and tried a polite grin. "So, uh… I heard you started chasing us because you were banished?"

"It took you this long to figure it out?"

Of course he shouldn't have expected this to be an easy conversation. Something in Zuko's tone, however, actually made him think it was a really worthwhile path to pursue. "You didn't exactly pause to explain anything to us. For instance, why were you banished?"

The look Zuko threw his way could easily compare to a fireblast. "You can figure that out yourself, too. I'm sure it won't take you _too_ long."

He smiled. "Well, if you're sure you want me to figure it out by myself – the first thing that comes to mind is that no one could possibly have the authority to banish you except your own father."

Zuko said nothing. Certain now that he was on the right trail, Aang continued, "So then, of course, the next obvious conclusion is that you quarreled with your father somehow. Except, you keep talking about carrying out his wishes – you even wanted to give him my staff for a present – so while he's still angry at you, you're no longer angry at him. Am I right?"

Zuko half-turned away; it was like a loud, clear yes. "So then, my question becomes – I've heard that there's some connection between you capturing me and your banishment being reversed, but obviously that's not the only way, or you wouldn't have offered that truce. Can we work something else out?"

Zuko slammed his palm against the ground. "You have some nerve. My father's conditions were very clear. I have to capture you, because you're a threat to the Fire Nation. Just because at one point, I was stupid enough to think you weren't that dangerous doesn't mean I'm _still_ that stupid."

His smile faltered. "One moment!" Toph supported him. "The way I heard it, you were banished three years ago, long before anyone knew that the Avatar would return. What were your father's conditions then? Could you still fulfill them?"

With a loathing glance, Zuko bit off, "This has been my mission from the beginning."

What could he do but stare? "You mean, you were sent to capture me way before you could be sure there was anyone to capture? That seems… harsh."

Zuko's face twisted. "You don't understand anything! Seeking the Avatar is a long and honorable tradition in my family. My father _trusted_ me with it even after I betrayed his trust."

"Um," was all he could think to say.

"He trusted you _and_ he banished you. Hmm," Toph said.

"He didn't want to banish me! He had to!"

Apparently, he'd stumbled onto a really sore point. "See, that's what I don't understand. Who has the authority to order the Firelord to banish his own son?"

For a moment, it looked like Zuko might choke. Katara even looked up from working with the general to peer at him worriedly. Eventually, he managed, "He has to do what's best for our nation, even when that conflicts with his personal wishes. That's why he's a good Firelord. So don't think you can trick me into being disloyal."

"So, what _was_ the particular good of the Fire Nation for which he kicked you out with nothing?" Toph asked mildly.

For once, Zuko looked lost and bewildered, and Aang felt an unexpected flash of sympathy for him. "That's not how it happened! He took care of me. It was the mildest banishment in history. Normally, you're not allowed to take anything but the clothes on your back, and you have to leave immediately. He let me stay a week, and he gave me a ship, a crew, even my allowance – everything he could." Although that sounded reasonable, Zuko's tone was uncertain enough to make it seem like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone.

It had been a mistake to listen quietly, because a moment later, Zuko's tone swung back to harsh and unforgiving. "So shut up about my father. I don't know why I'm even talking to you about it, since you don't care about family. You say you want to work something out? You don't even think of our nation as human!"

"I do! I'm the Avatar, and I have to be responsible for all the nations. You, on the other hand – what did you think of my people? Were they human to you, when your soldiers killed them all?"

Zuko bent forward a bit as he rubbed his hands over his face. "I wasn't there, you know, since I wasn't even born yet. I do see your point, though."

His anger melted. "You do?"

Zuko was silent for a long moment. "I think my great-grandfather respected the might of the Air Nomads, which would have been enough to for him to see them as human, but it was a cruel sort of respect that drove him to such excesses. For whatever it's worth, as the direct descendant of Firelord Sozin – I don't understand why he did it, and I am sorry. Sorry that my people did that to yours, and sorry that it had been so cruel."

Even a blink seemed difficult, so he just stared.

Zuko looked away. "Well, that doesn't make anything better, does it? They still died, and there's nothing that can make up for that. Just like nothing can make up for the people you killed at the North Pole."

A sound escaped him, but he didn't know how to answer that. It didn't make him feel better, but to hear someone, to hear Zuko of all people, even try to apologize…

"Well, so that makes the two of you even!" Toph suggested brightly.

They both swung on her with what were probably identical looks of disbelief, though Toph wouldn't see them, anyway. Zuko was faster. "No, it doesn't!" he hissed at her. "It's not a schoolyard fight! Those particular soldiers had never attacked the Air Nomads! Why should they be the ones to pay?"

With some horror, Aang realized that he really hadn't thought of the difference between the killers and those particular soldiers. _They would have done the same as the killers. They're Fire Nation, they're no different. Someone has to pay._ No, no, even though these things were true, he couldn't think like that. He had to be better than that. "I really didn't mean to kill anyone," he said lowly.

Zuko seemed to be too drained to even become very angry. "Stop lying to yourself, would you? I've heard about what happened at Chin. There, you were willing to go on trial for a murder you personally didn't commit, just because the victim was from the Earth Kingdom. When I tell you that you murdered Fire Nation soldiers, however, you twist and dodge and go through contortions just to avoid that responsibility. That disgusts me."

That prompted honesty out of him in return. "I don't know how I would live with myself, if I were a murderer."

Zuko bit back some reply. "You've got lifetimes of wisdom to draw upon, don't you? Figure it out. Until then, I have nothing else to say to you."

Aang crossed his arms and looked away pointedly. Zuko was just wrong. _I'm the Avatar. I'm not a murderer. The monks taught us respect for all lives._

That dream he had, though, the one which made him decide that he didn't want to experiment with the Avatar State, not even if it meant defeating the Firelord, had ended with a vision of Zuko. The moment during their first encounter when he'd activated his Avatar State and swept him overboard with a vortex of water, to be precise. In life, Zuko had made his way back without fear. In the dream, he was frightened and ran, and Aang attacked him anyway. He'd killed… it was just a dream. It made him realize, though, that he didn't want to kill anyone, not even Zuko, not even Firelord Ozai.

In life, there had been other people on deck, though at least they hadn't gone overboard. Funny, how in the dream, there had been no one else. As if the entire Fire Nation was just one person, who should be killed, because there was nobody like Kuzon there anymore.

Surely not. Zuko was just particularly memorable, and dreams were weird.

* * *

><p>Arrogant, snotty, worse manners than a hogmonkey… Katara would have loved to tell Zuko exactly what she thought of him. Worse, what he'd said almost made sense, but that didn't give him the right to lecture Aang, not with all he'd done. Katara made one final pass through the elderly man's injuries. She'd be damned if she asked for help. She was the one with healing abilities, here. <em>Water brings healing and life<em> – Jeong Jeong, of all people, had said so.

Yet she wasn't doing much good here, now was she? She'd resealed the leaking boundaries of the injury, so that he would no longer have fluid seeping into his lungs, and she'd rehydrated him, but the burns themselves were proving to be stubborn. Pride fought with concern for another. It was a vicious encounter, but Katara knew which part of herself she needed to win. After a couple of minutes she opened her mouth and said, "If you're done sulking like a child and being nasty to Aang…?"

He snorted. "You haven't seen nasty."

"I'm sure I haven't," she parried. After a pause to clear her throat, she continued, "Well… the energy thing you did for your uncle yesterday… do you think you could do it again?"

He seemed genuinely surprised, and his tone was pained. "I didn't do anything."

She sat back and considered him. Why lie about that? He had absolutely nothing to gain by it, and a lot to lose. "You amplified his chi, somehow. It gave me more energy to work with."

"Really? Then of course." He scrambled to take his place at his uncle's side. At the moment, he looked like an undignified teen, not the implacable hunter he'd been. Good to know that even in the Fire Nation, family meant something – except the whole reason she was in this mess in the first place was that the man in front of her got attacked by another member of his family. She shook her head and tried to let go of her disgust. She had a job to do, here.

When she washed the wounds with her healing water again, there it was. With the boost he provided, the healing went much faster and more smoothly. Even… Katara hated to think it, but he really did seem to be doing a large part of the work. It made sense, in a way. The old general had been hit with fire, and a firebender would know how to deal with fire.

Between the two of them, the damage was reduced again. Her patient could now heal on his own, or with another few sessions – no, they couldn't afford to linger here. She had done what she needed to do. He was out of danger.

Still, she continued to wash her healing water around the injury, trying to make it a less painful one. The task didn't require nearly so much of her attention, so she asked the burning question, "I thought there were no healers in the Fire Nation?"

He was still concentrating heavily enough to be distracted. Good. Maybe she could get more truth out of him that way. "Why would you think that? Of course we have healers."

"Well, for one, J – a firebender once told me that he envied me my talent in a way which heavily implied that firebenders couldn't be healers. For another, why are you walking around with such a scar, then?"

He twitched, but didn't look up. "The healers focused a lot more on saving my eyesight than on mere scarring. They succeeded, which should tell you the level of their skill." She blinked as she considered what a burn that bad ought to have done to his eye, and had to admit his point. He wasn't done. "Firebending is rarely used to heal directly, except for a very few kinds of injuries, such as wound cauterization. Indirectly, on the other hand, it helps with a lot of things, such as chi manipulation. Anyway, don't you think it would be absurd for a whole people to know no medicine at all? We're not savages!"

She opened her mouth to retort angrily, then noted a fine tremor beginning in his hands. "You can stop; we're done."

He glanced at her suspiciously. She rolled her eyes and pulled her hands away. He sat back, and she noted again how exhausted he looked. After she returned the water to her waterskin, she began the more mundane task of unwrapping the bandages for manual work. The bottom layers were damp, and she feared a suppuration for a moment, but it soon became clear that it was some sort of ointment. The part of the burn which had reached through to the lungs was healing nicely, though still white at the center of impact. The severe blistering over the ribs and the shoulder joint was mostly gone, but there was still a lot of redness and swelling. She thought she would need to debride the damaged layers – a process she wasn't that familiar with – but it looked like Zuko had already taken care of most of it, and the ointment would do the job for the slower process of wet debridement.

"You do seem to know a lot about burn treatment," she murmured, mostly to herself.

He snorted bitterly. "You think?"

It still made no sense to her. "Were you trained in medicine?" she asked as she began to replace the bandages. Zuko moved to lift his uncle without being asked.

"Absolutely not!" he sounded offended. "You think I could learn nothing better?"

"Healing is one of the noblest arts, and deserves respect! But you're not savages. Right. So if you weren't aware of how you were amplifying your uncle's chi, what did you think you were doing?"

"Providing support, and making sure you were really trying to help instead of harm."

"You think I would harm a defenseless old man?"

"Why not? You attacked me without provocation just because you were so sure I would attack you. How could I be sure you wouldn't think 'Here's an enemy of mine; let me strike at him first, too'?"

She drew an angry breath. "I don't know if you're aware of a little something called a healer's honor, but it calls for trying to cure the sick, no matter who they are! Friend, enemy, it doesn't matter! If they need your help and you can help, you provide it!"

She expected him to yell back, but instead, he examined her curiously. Eventually, he seemed to accept that she was telling the truth and nodded.

"And for the record," she continued, but a bit less angrily, "you say you weren't going to attack me? Then why were you drawing fire into your hands?"

He actually seemed a bit embarrassed. "You insulted me, and I was angry. Reacting with a bit of fire is normal for firebenders. I wasn't trying to attack, which you would have seen if you'd waited a few seconds!"

"I've seen what firebenders can do with a few seconds," she hissed. "You weren't exactly giving me cause to trust you. If you were so pure and innocent, then why did you drag Aang away into that storm?"

He shook his head tiredly. "I'm not claiming pure innocence, but I don't know what I could have done to 'give you cause to trust me' beyond just simply not attacking. After my experience in trying to talk with you, I thought that I would do better not to be found by anyone else, and at the time, I still thought it was worthwhile to try reasoning with the Avatar."

"Hey!" Aang interjected. "I was willing to hear what you had to say! Still am, except that now, you're not being reasonable."

Zuko made an angry hissing noise. Katara pointed at him. "See? This is what I'm talking about. Sure, there wasn't a lot you could have done to convince me to trust you. Not flying off the handle at every little thing, however, would have gone a long way. Or, I don't know, you could have accepted that it would take a bit of time, instead of being so demanding, and showed me that you were willing to wait patiently!"

Zuko closed his eyes for a moment. "Perhaps. It doesn't matter now."

"Oh, it doesn't? Easy for you to decide, with your little apologies! You're a terrible person, you know that? Always following us, hunting the Avatar, trying to capture the world's last hope for peace! But what do you care ? You're the Firelord's son. Spreading war and violence and hatred is in your blood."

He looked down at his hands for a long moment. "I know you have no reason to believe me, but the people of the Fire Nation don't actually want 'war and violence and hatred.' We were trying to help the other nations! I know that's not what it's like now, and I'm not sure how it went so wrong, but we had good intentions." He looked up. "That doesn't make up for anything you've lost, I know, but please, tell me what can."

She wanted to cry and throw her mother's death in his face, but with Aang and Toph right there, she couldn't. She had to be strong for them; if they saw her break down, why would they ever trust her again? She gulped back tears. "Nothing. There's nothing you can do."

He nodded resignedly.

She didn't even want to talk to him anymore, but emotions kept battering her apart from the inside, and talking relieved the pressure. "No, I misspoke. You could stop trying to capture Aang, and you could start being a decent person, and you could actually work to reverse the evils your lot have inflicted, and oh, you could give us back the map you stole! For starters."

"Map?" He seemed to be searching back in his memory. "Oh, the paper with the Avatar's scent on it? I don't have it anymore."

She made a hard, scoffing noise. It was the least of his crimes, but seeing Dad again meant so much to Sokka… to herself, too, if she were honest.

He wasn't done, though. "I'm trying to remember… I didn't examine it closely, you understand… it was a map of a small bay in the Taipo hills region, right? I remember wondering why anyone would want to know about it in such detail; it's all silty and shallow, with nothing but wilderness for miles around. Scalloped Coast Bay, that was it; the one with all the small rivers draining into it. There was a line on the map extending out of the mouth of a river into the bay." He squinted into the distance, and moved his fingers as if calculating something, "I can't remember exactly which river, but it was either Poyang or Tengari."

For a second, she stared, then asked with suspicion, "You remember all that from a brief glance months ago?" The origin of the line wasn't important; what mattered was the length and curvature, which, with simple geometry, were used to pinpoint the actual secret location, but he couldn't know that.

He shrugged impatiently. "I've studied a lot of maps; it's a handy skill."

"And you're just telling me what I want to know because…?"

"Because you asked, and it's not a terrible secret!" he exhaled forcefully. "Is it that hard to believe?"

"Frankly, yes."

"I don't have any problem with you, aside your enthusiasm for imprisoning me in ice. Just with the company you keep."

"Aang is wonderful company! You don't have the right to judge him."

"When he might go into the Avatar State at any moment and slaughter some more helpless people? I think I do."

"I really don't like me in the Avatar State," Aang said simply. With a lot of angry back and forth, they explained to his dense highness what exactly had happened with General Fong, and why Aang was not about to use the Avatar State anytime soon. "So if I don't do that, does that mean you won't try to capture me anymore?" Aang asked hopefully.

Zuko grimaced as if his head hurt and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but…" he glanced cautiously at his uncle's unconscious form, and they all leaned forward a bit expectantly. "I mean, I don't expect you to stop being at war with us – we're still attacking ourselves, after all, but yes, if you fight honorably from now on, that does make a difference. However," his voice harshened, "I still need to capture you. The effects of your attack at the North Pole haven't just gone away. There are still soldiers kept captive, for instance, and the desire for revenge might lead some of our troops to act badly. Do you even know what your actions did to Uncle? They declared him a traitor! He's always going to be in danger like this – there are a lot of things which won't be fixed unless I can talk to my father – and I can't without you in tow. Would it be so terrible to be captured? You're good at escaping, I know. We don't want to kill you. We just want you to stop being a danger to us. You have no idea how many problems could be solved by that…"

Zuko's wistful tone at the end made it an oddly persuasive speech – that is, slightly persuasive, where it should have been not persuasive at all. For a moment, Katara worried that Aang, with his soft heart, might give in. Fortunately, Aang answered firmly, "I've been captured by the Fire Nation once. No thanks."

Zuko muttered something uncomplimentary about Zhao and subsided for a moment, then suddenly went rigid. "Wait, once? What about when I captured you?" He almost sounded hurt.

"Well, you didn't really keep me captured, did you?" Aang grinned nervously.

"Oh, so the mighty hunter is upset because he's not as mighty as he likes to think?" she jumped back in. "I notice that Zhao's capture was the first thing you thought of yourself!"

"Well, sure, it was easy for him, with all his 'hundreds of ships'!" Zuko retorted.

"You know, we're not going to be impressed by anything having to do with trapping a little kid, even if we weren't talking about Aang, so you can stop trying right now!"

"I wasn't trying to impress you! Just stating a fact!"

She opened her mouth to retort, but the sounds of her patient stirring interrupted her. Zuko, too, seemed to forget their argument in favor of hovering anxiously. As soon as the old man opened his eyes, Zuko asked, "Are you all right, Uncle? Did we disturb your rest?"

General Iroh looked around with some surprise, then smiled. "I am much better than expected," he proclaimed. He sat up with only a small wince. "I see I have you to thank," he bowed deeply to her from a sitting position, then pressed his hand lightly against his injury. It obviously still bothered him, but he gave her such a warm smile that she smiled back. He then turned to Toph. "And I am glad to meet you again!"

Toph tried to act indifferent, but she was obviously pleased. "Likewise, old man."

"And the Avatar," the general nodded courteously to Aang. Aang nodded back with open curiosity. He was so genuinely friendly, it was hard to remember that he was Fire Nation, too. Too bad he had such an awful family (even if Zuko was beginning to appear halfway human).

"Katara gave us some painkilling herbs," Zuko interrupted. "You should have a cup."

The general made a comically exaggerated sad face. "They taste worse than being in pain."

"I know, but you only have to taste them for a few seconds, and then you'll feel much better. Come on, I know you want your tea, and the teapot is occupied."

"Well…"

"And if you do drink them, you can have this!" Zuko produced some kind of pastry with one corner missing. "It's a bit stale, but it has a sweet filling."

"That does look good! All right."

For the first time, she saw Zuko smile – in relief. He poured the brew into a cup and warmed it briefly in his hands before handing it over. The general made a face, but no further protest, and received his promised reward. "Mmm, tasty," he mumbled around his first bite. "Where did you get this?"

Unexpectedly, Zuko looked away, and not before she saw a look of pain flash across his face. "There was a farming family whom I helped fix a barn roof, in exchange for food."

"You fixed a roof?" Aang exclaimed before anyone else could, and the rest of them wore various looks of shock and amusement.

"Well," Zuko muttered, "'fixed' may be too strong a word, but yes, those shingles are going to stay up a while longer."

General Iroh now gave a warm and loving smile to Zuko. "I'm glad to see you've done well while you were away." A beat later, he added, "Prince Zuko, what's wrong?"

"I'll tell you later," Zuko answered without enthusiasm.

General Iroh frowned, but let it go, especially once Momo landed in front of him and stared at the remaining portion of the pastry. "Ooooh! Who is _this_ handsome little fellow?" Momo preened and gave a lengthy pleased chitter, which the general gave every impression of listening to attentively. He broke off a piece of the pastry and held it out. After just a second for caution, Momo accepted both the treat and a place in the general's lap. For a firebender, he just seemed – sweet. Katara could find no other word for it.

"That's Momo," Aang answered with a smile, and launched into the tale of their first meeting. The general laughed at the tale of the fearsome shadow and tickled Momo's ears, sending him into a blissful purr. Nobody else spoke for a little while; tired out from all the arguing, it seemed like much less effort to just listen.

When the general stopped moving his fingers, Momo let out a whole torrent of complaint, which seemed to include quite a bit of pointing his ears at Zuko. The general spoke in a chiding tone, "Zuko, what did you do to offend this excellent lemur?"

"What? I didn't!"

Momo squeaked accusingly. The general's tone became more severe. "It is all the more wrong to give offense when so unequal, and you know it."

After a brief staring match between the two firebenders, Zuko dropped his gaze. "Apologies," he mumbled. Katara was hard-pressed not to laugh at the fearsome firebender bested by an old man and a lemur. Aang had been right. This wasn't at all what she'd expected from talking to those two.

Okay, she needed to know one thing right now, before she actually did something stupid like trust the old guy. "So where did you _actually_ get Water Tribe blankets, General Iroh?"

* * *

><p>Toph was beginning to get a headache from the effort of reconciling the vibrations she felt through the adobe wall and the unevenly-destroyed floor. It didn't help that, for once, she couldn't be as rock-solid certain as usual about her ability to tell truth from lies. Nah, it still worked, she assured herself. She just wasn't used to… okay, first there was the girl in the night. She knew with her, but after Sokka's little comment – the girl's heartbeat had triphammered, and her whole body had gone tense. That was normal. However, she should have hyperventilated along with that, and she didn't. Just quiet, regular breaths. Two of her main sources of information shouldn't contradict each other like that.<p>

As if that wasn't bad enough, there was Prince Zuko. He was so volatile, his vibrations were particularly easy to read. She knew how he felt throughout; she knew he was a lot more exhausted than he showed; bleeding hogmonkeys, could even distinguish more of his facial expressions than those of other people, by the contrast between the moving and non-moving sides of his face! So she knew when he lied, but what baffled her was what he chose to lie about. Though he'd lied this very morning, about the herbs, prompting her to go along to keep an eye on him, he'd been almost completely sincere in his dealings with both Aang and Katara. A sudden and intense shame when he'd talked about the healers saving his eye made no sense at all, either. Honest about what he'd remembered, he then turned and lied about why he was telling this to Katara. (The only explanation she could come up with for that was that he was attracted to her despite himself and embarrassed about it, but if so, he should have showed all the little signs of infatuation, and he didn't.) Then he'd lied about Momo, and felt deeply guilty about it. Either he was just completely unhinged, or she couldn't _really_ tell what he was feeling, and she hated the unsteady feeling it gave her.

At least General Iroh had neither lied nor given off contradictory signals, though at present he was perched on such a pile of vibration-muffling fabric (thicker than last night – Zuko must have added stuff from his own pack after they left), that she could only sense the broad outlines of him.

At Katara's belligerent question, the first thing he did was to correct her gently. "Just Iroh is fine; I'm retired." Toph rolled that around in her mind. She had never been allowed to call any of the adults who came to their house by just the name; since they pretty much all had both rank and title, it was considered disrespectful. Now, arena names – those were fun. She loved using them, and thinking up nicknames – but really, it didn't seem right for her new friend. With a thrill of transgression, she decided to take him exactly at his word and call him just by name, as if he was just like her.

While she made that decision, he'd gone on about how a friend had given him the blankets. "Master Pakku – he spoke highly of your skill, and I see now he has not exaggerated!"

Flattery backfired with Katara. "The two of you rehearsed this story, I see."

"Yes!" Zuko shot to his feet. "Because we had nothing better to do than to sit around and rehearse our deception for you! Never mind injuries, and talking about the actually important things, all we talked about was the terror of you somehow not being fooled about this minor little thing!"

Toph was not the only one who noticed Zuko swaying. "Injuries?" Iroh's voice sharpened a great deal. "Where are you injured?"

"I'm not!"

"Prince Zuko, the spiderfly which does not pay attention to –"

"Enough already, Uncle! I swear, the worst that's happened was when I hit my thumb with a hammer." More and more confusing – Zuko seemed to be changing his own mind on whether he was telling the truth or not several times within fifteen seconds of saying it. For a moment, Toph almost longed for the simplicity of her former life. It was pretty scary, this much uncertainty.

Iroh reached over and poked his ribs with gentle precision. Zuko fell over, then sat up, rubbing his elbow. "Ow! What was that for?"

"For being so distracted you failed to maintain a good stance. I know I taught you better than that. Now, what's gotten you so distracted?"

"Oh, I don't know, perhaps the fact that we're surrounded by enemies, and you can find nothing better to do than play with their pet and nag me?" That was sarcasm, mostly, but she thought she could detect a touch of lying, too.

"You're right, my nephew, I have neglected the most important thing! How could I have forgotten?" he pressed a hand to his forehead. "I have yet to make tea! Please forgive me, everybody."

"No problem!" Aang answered brightly.

"You give good tea; it'll be worth the wait," she enthused, not to be outdone.

Zuko leaned back against the wall so that his head hit it with an audible thunk. Toph had herself an evil little laugh on the inside. Never mind her former life. This was lots more entertaining!

"I'm afraid I don't have a proper selection to offer, but we will make the best of what we have," Iroh announced with a smile in his voice. "Zuko, where are my tea leaves?"

With a resigned sigh, Zuko retrieved a bag from one of the corners. "Here. By the way, you do actually have a selection. Mai and Ty Lee sent along a small present for you."

"Did they?" Iroh tore through the bag eagerly and triumphantly dug out a small metal box. On opening it, he inhaled deeply. "My word, this is a rare blend of black tea, ginseng, and lychee! Much better than what I brought. _That_ was getting so stale, I had to work hard to prevent it from tasting like hot leaf juice!"

"Uncle, that's what _all_ tea is."

"How can a member of my own family say something so horrible?" Iroh wailed dramatically. Even Katara, who had kept up a skeptical scowl despite herself for most of this time, snorted with laughter a bit.

"Uncle, I know I said we had some time before we had to leave, but don't you think this is getting ridiculous?"

"Not at all! There's always time for tea and interesting company!" Iroh turned his head until it pointed in Katara's direction. "I know it makes little sense to you to hear of Master Pakku's acquaintance with me, but perhaps this will make it clearer: at our age, we are more inclined to sit down to a cup of good tea and a rousing game of Pai Sho than to start attacking on sight, especially when our first meeting is in neutral territory. Conversation opens so many doors, don't you think?"

"Well…" Katara was beginning to be reluctantly convinced.

"If only we had a Pai Sho board," he sighed. "A few more cups would not come amiss, either!"

Zuko tilted his head back and spoke in a detached tone of voice. "Under the terms of our truce, I feel that I should warn you – don't ever play Pai Sho with Uncle. Unless you enjoy losing."

"I don't mind losing, but I bet I know some strategies no one else does!" said Aang.

"Then we must definitely play if it becomes possible!" Iroh replied.

"It's a deal! I'll get our cups," Aang volunteered, "and see if Sokka is awake yet. He should probably be here for any talk."

"Ah," he stroked his beard, "I was wondering why he wasn't here! He seemed like such an integral part of your group."

"He is," Katara defended her brother loyally. Aang nodded. Toph blew her hair away from her face in mild irritation. Sokka was… well… he was the only one who tried to stop her from leaving the group a few days ago, but still, something about him made sharp prickles go up her spine. "He does like to sleep in," she scoffed.

"Very wise of him – a man needs his rest." He raised his voice slightly. "This, some would do well to remember!" (Zuko barely reacted to that. Toph narrowed her eyes at him. He kept hogging all of his uncle's attention, and didn't even appreciate it.)

Toph didn't let that stand. "Oh, by that definition, Sokka is even more manly than he likes to think he is." She'd made Katara smile involuntarily and glance over to Aang, but Iroh didn't seem to think it was funny.

"What?" Aang demanded. "Do I have something stuck in my teeth?" Katara shook her head. "I'm going to get Sokka; he's the one with ideas."

"That'll just give me the time to make the tea," Iroh enthused. He moved around the tiny fire confidently, even if his arm motions were a bit clumsy. "Zuko, really, how long has it been since you've rested – _properly_?"

"I'll rest once it actually gets quiet around here," Zuko responded irritably, but Toph could tell he fought back a yawn at the same time.

"We're just having tea." Iroh now sounded irritable, too. "You don't need to keep watch."

"I know, I know, you've just had a little scratch and you're fine."

"I am indeed! Thank you for acknowledging that."

Zuko didn't dignify that with an answer, and Iroh busied himself with the teapot, humming as he worked. Under the cover of the distraction, Katara slid closer and whispered, "Toph, you've been grinning scarily half the time. Anything I should know?"

"Nah. I'm just enjoying the performance."

"Performance?" Katara sounded anxious again. "You think they're plotting something?"

"No, no. The grumbly one just _wants_ you to think that he's still capable of doing something. The only thing he'd have the energy to set on fire is his own eyelashes."

She thought she had been speaking too quietly to be heard, but Zuko's quickly suppressed shudder suggested otherwise.

* * *

><p>Zuko felt a bit like he was floating, and hearing everything as if at a distance, both sure signs that he did need sleep. However, that didn't matter. Uncle had nearly died, and the way he made light of his injuries only made Zuko more stressed out, since now, he couldn't trust Uncle to just tell him when he needed help. This kind of behavior had irritated Zuko more than once over the course of the years; it was almost unbearable now. If Zuko hadn't made so many mistakes, would Uncle be in this situation at all? Of course not.<p>

Underneath everything, he'd been grateful not to be alone on his journey. From the way that Uncle fixed Zuko's mistakes with the crew, to the way he taught him firebending, to the sickening amounts of charm he used to paper over awkward situations, like now… he knew he would never have come this far without that support. He'd never really given much thought about what would happen to him if Uncle weren't there, but he didn't have that luxury anymore.

Uncle almost died.

He could survive, alone, but… he had to admit, he would not be well.

_That is when we must trust others to pull us back._ Endless offers of tea, and Pai Sho, and suggestions that he should relax – he'd hated them all, but the offers had always been there. Like a beacon – telling him that there were rocks nearby.

So he played his part in Uncle's current attempts to disarm the Avatar's group with his lighthearted behavior. Did his best to talk to them without giving them cause to attack, though he could not give up speaking the truth. That turned out to be easier than he expected, really, even as Zuko. They lacked viciousness. If the temporary peace between their two groups weren't so fragile, perhaps he might have admitted his alternate identity, but no, right now that would just result in an unholy mess.

It was almost dreamlike, how things were falling together. If only he hadn't made so many mistakes.

He fought the sleepiness. Over his hands, he could almost still feel the faint, warm traceries of the things Mai had said wordlessly. (They really needed to expand their vocabulary again – a lot of things were hard to communicate in their language.) At the base of each palm, her thumbs had pressed hard – the last message. "Be careful."


	18. Iroh's Truths

**A/N:** Thanks to ebonjadethorn and daveshan for pointing out a couple of small issues.

**Chapter 18**

Toph could hear Sokka and Aang arriving from quite a distance away. Sokka's disbelief and amusement came through more and more clearly as they approached; apparently, Aang filled him on what happened so far. "I missed that? Oh, man!"

The moment they came close, however, Zuko tensed up oddly. For the rest of the conversation, he seemed to be trying to both hold still and not react. Since he hadn't done that with any of the rest of them, Toph could only wonder at his behavior again.

Sokka strode in with his arms akimbo. When he sat down, he propped his chin on one hand and leaned forward like a tutor who suspected his student of not learning the lesson properly. The intense and serious examination did not quite survive Iroh serving tea all around, but Sokka took a sip and then acted all tutorly again. "Okay," he proclaimed. "There are some things we want to know, and I had plans to go hunting today, so let's make this quick."

"I have no objections," Iroh sounded as if he were smiling as he spread his arms wide.

"I do. Have we suddenly turned into travelling teachers, to be dispensing wisdom to all and sundry?" Zuko grumbled half-heartedly.

"It might not be such a bad fate – if only one could be sure of dispensing actual wisdom! Now," Iroh turned his head back to address Sokka, "what was it you wished to know?"

"Well… it's about the war, and all sorts of things related to that. To put it in the broadest terms, perhaps we should start with 'What will it take to make peace happen?'"

"That is complicated," Iroh did the beard-stroking gesture again. "I am not sure I know the answer to that one. When I was a young man, I joined the army without giving it much thought, for war seemed inevitable. You yourself, perhaps, know what it is to be raised with the expectations of fighting. You carry your weapons with you always."

Sokka nodded reluctantly. "But we fight only because we have to defend ourselves against your blood-feeders. No offense," he added archly and insincerely.

"None taken!" Iroh let it roll off him. "That sensation of inevitability is precisely what I spoke of. I am sure you understand that abandoning the fight after your opponent has every reason in the world to retaliate but before you have disabled the capacity to do so is terrible tactics. Thus, the war goes on, even though many are tired of it."

"Well, perhaps the Fire Nation should surrender unconditionally! Unlike you, we know how to show mercy to the fallen." Sokka made a sound of disgust, then spoke more calmly. "No, you don't have to tell me, it's not going to happen."

"You wish the war to end – that is a noble goal. Surprising as it may seem at first glance, it is also the goal for the Fire Nation. The difference – an irreconcilable one, I fear – is in the visions each of us have of what that end would look like." Iroh raised his hands palms-up, then lifted them alternately as if weighing two things against each other.

Sokka fingered his machete, not quite idly. "Yes, you're just going to go on killing. Aang, as the Avatar, is going to do his absolute best to stop you, and every sane person in the world will help him, but people are still going to die. Is that what you want?"

Toph interrupted them before this could get ugly. "Sokka, I think what he means is, it's all well and good to say that the other nations would be gracious in victory, but you can't exactly guarantee no retaliation, can you? Neither can he, so you're asking for the impossible."

Iroh gave her a nod of appreciation. "That is a fair summary. Also, you seem to be laboring under the impression that I am capable of changing the course of the war. Some years ago, that might have been true. Now, however, I do not have any influence upon the Firelord, I am retired from the Army so that I no longer have subordinates, and I am a simple refugee, hiding from the Fire Nation even more than you. All I can offer you right now is this conversation."

This was the first time that his statements felt tinged with lying, but it wasn't anything specific, and she caught the faint emphasis on "right now," too. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to push him to say more immediately, then.

Sokka tipped his head back and tensed, obviously thinking hard. "That seems… convenient. From one of the most powerful men in the Fire Nation, you're now descended to one truly so helpless?"

"Destiny is a funny thing," Iroh said with a smiling tone.

"Destiny," Zuko snorted, then addressed them. "He wouldn't have been in this situation if he hadn't decided to help me."

"Hush, Zuko. That's not true." He thought it wasn't, anyway, but Zuko was equally convinced it was. Interesting.

"How isn't it true?" Zuko demanded.

Iroh ignored the question. Toph took the opportunity. "Why, what happened?" she addressed Zuko directly.

Before he could answer, Iroh shook his head quickly, and Zuko sighed, "Never mind."

Sokka, who had been listening coldly, suddenly seemed enlightened. "You chose to leave the war, didn't you?"

Iroh's tone positively overran with approval. "Indeed I have. I have spent so long fighting that I was tired, you see."

Sokka elbowed Aang in the side – subtle, he was not. "Well, then, in your opinion, exactly how tired are the others in the Fire Nation?"

"It is a good question, but one that I fear does not lead to the conclusion you desire. I've seen many men and women leave the Army during my time, but rarely without difficulty."

"Wait, women?" Toph couldn't help interrupting. "That wasn't a rumor? Women really fight in the Fire Nation Army? Like, in the front ranks?"

"Of course." Toph was jealous. She'd dreamed of joining the Army – until one day she asked a recruiter whether it was true they allowed you to join at fourteen sometimes, and he explained that even if she was old enough, she couldn't. He wasn't persuaded otherwise even when she sank him up to the shoulders in the ground and interfered with his pathetic attempts to earthbend his way out. ("Of course, women can be excellent earthbenders," he'd tried to placate her. "But how do you think men feel, when a woman gets injured on the battlefield doing what should have been their job? I know there are some specialist female squads which provide support and defense, if necessary, but not around here.")

Toph wasn't prone to crying, but she dripped a few tears that day. She didn't want to do the "support." She could get them to make an exception for her, she was sure she was that good, but if that came with all the other soldiers around her acting worse than her parents – no. So there was nowhere to go. Not for years and years.

Sokka shifted as if about to say something about women soldiers. Toph prepared to give his backside another kicking, but he said nothing after all.

"As I was saying," Iroh went on, "people who have spent their lives fighting often find themselves unable to settle into peaceful lives. They no longer remember how to live that kind of life. They have honed the skills of the fighter, not of the artisan or the farmer. They find themselves without camaraderie, without a sense of duty and purpose. They don't necessarily wish for war. It is only that without the war, they no longer know who they are. Then, if they have any influence in the political arena, they shape the world into one in which armed conflict is always a necessary evil."

Sokka seemed deeply troubled by this explanation and sunk his chin into both his hands. While he was pondering, Zuko spoke up. "I never thought of that, Uncle. Do you think it would help if they had something similar to do, but not actual battling?"

"Like what?" Iroh asked.

"I'm not sure. My first thought was rescue teams – a group with excellent purpose, which needs some of the same skills as soldiers do."

"There aren't nearly enough people needing rescue in the entire world," Iroh replied gently.

"Yeah, that's why I said 'first thought'."

"I like it," she said. "If I didn't have my earthbending tournaments, I'd have gone crazy. There's your fighting without the war!"

"Is there such a thing as group tournaments?" Zuko asked curiously.

"Well, not really," she had to admit. "The more people in the ring, the higher the chances of someone _actually_ getting hurt. It's a first thought, too. Could use some refining."

"How about something really _useful_?" said Katara. "For instance, the Fire Nation soldiers could spend some of their time helping rebuild everything they destroyed. There's your purpose, and it'd teach them lots of peacetime skills, too."

Zuko was starting to become cautiously excited. "It would also help the rest of the world learn to see the Fire Nation in a new light – well, if they trusted the Fire Nation enough to allow us anywhere near the rebuilding in the first place," he finished in a defeated tone of voice.

Iroh nodded. "It is perhaps something worth considering, but I believe we have wandered from the original question."

"Nah," Sokka said, though he sounded as if he were speaking to himself, "the thing about many people benefitting from the war is pretty much what Blue said, though he put it in different terms."

Zuko's heartbeat suddenly sped up, then evened out again. What _was _with him?

Iroh made a polite interrogatory sound.

"Blue's one of our friends," Aang explained on seeing that Sokka was still preoccupied. "He was the one who suggested that we should find out more about who we're fighting, and why."

"I must say, you seem to have surrounded yourself with remarkable friends. It is a very valuable talent – to find those who will help you. As for who you're fighting and why – I believe that that is quite up to you."

The comment brought Sokka out of his funk briefly. "Hey! We were minding our own business until your troops came in and slaughtered our people. That wasn't up to us."

"What I meant to say was that your group is a small one. Quite understandably, you have not chosen to take on the entirety of the Fire Nation. More tea?" he poured refills for those who wanted them. "Unless I mistake your tactics entirely, you have so far avoided fighting anyone but the Navy at the North Pole, and you must be casting about for some other target now. That target is still not going to be the whole of the Fire Nation. They may very well be people I know, however, and I am not comfortable discussing their demise." That struck the target unerringly, and they all grew uncomfortable at his words. Aang even shifted in place guiltily.

She hurried to reassure him. "Well, see, we don't want to kill the good people."

"Yes, the Fire Nation has few enough of those to spare," Katara muttered.

"So now it lies upon me to tell you who should be spared and who not?" For the first time, Iroh's tone grew edges of sarcasm.

"No, no," Aang stammered. "That's why we were asking about any other way to end the war – because we don't want to kill anyone at all if we can help it. You're the Firelord's brother – you of all people might know! Since Zuko here doesn't want a truce anymore, who would?"

Iroh's hand almost reached out towards Aang for a moment, then fell back. "You misunderstand. The truce has always been a longshot. Ozai has perhaps been the least militarily-minded of our war leaders, in the sense that he has been content to leave strategy to his advisors, for the most part. However, he is a proud and determined man, and he will not easily give up what his ancestors have gained by sweat and blood."

Zuko's heart began to race with anxiety. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. On seeing that he didn't seem likely to talk, after all, Toph tried to get them back towards better topics. "Well, like you said, it was a longshot. I'm still glad we've had this conversation, though – it cleared up a number of things. Hasn't it?" She glared in the general direction of the others, and they variously nodded and murmured agreement. "We should talk more about that. For instance, your own retirement is an interesting one. What happened at the siege of Ba Sing Se? Everyone said you were going to win after you broke through!"

She might as well have pushed him into deep water; his whole body reacted with that level of shock. "Well," he began. He was good, but he couldn't hide the wretchedness in his voice. "That's not a story I like to tell."

"But could you tell it to me?"

"Perhaps another time?"

"What other time?"

"Leave him alone!" Zuko screamed so suddenly, she jumped. "He doesn't owe you an explanation!"

"Zuko, she meant nothing by it," Iroh sighed, but almost wistfully.

"Well, then, she shouldn't push."

"I only asked because I've wondered if it had anything to do with why you didn't inherit, like you should." She was really doing a bad job in this conversation. Maybe she should stop talking.

Iroh regained his calm quickly. "Like I should? No, that probably had a lot more to do with me not wanting to inherit and being too preoccupied with other concerns at the time of my father's passing."

"Well, actually…" Zuko's voice sounded quietly.

"Hmm?"

"When – the news – came, Father requested an audience with Grandfather Azulon."

"You needed an audience to talk to your own grandfather?" asked Aang a bit derisively.

"Yes." Zuko's tone was clipped.

"My father had so many demands on his time, he did resort to scheduling everything, even family meetings," Iroh explained. "Go on, Zuko. What was so special about that audience?"

"Well, at first it was the usual things, all 'best clothes' and being interrogated on what we'd learned at school – I didn't answer well – but then, Father requested… because of what happened at Ba Sing Se… he said…" Zuko's voice was low with shame.

"I think I know what he would have said," Iroh interrupted. "You don't need to go over that part."

"Right. Well, Grandfather got very angry at first. He wouldn't hear of disinheriting you. He must have changed his mind sometime very soon after that, though. Why would he do that, unless he found – those arguments – convincing, after all?"

"Yes." Iroh's tone was thoughtful. "I could see it happening that way. Well, to my mind, it all worked out for the best. Ozai did a good job at a time when I couldn't have."

"A good job?" Katara's heartrate spiked alarmingly. "Criminals."

"I meant only in terms of ruling the Fire Nation," Iroh explained. "It takes a lot of hard work to prevent our nation from sliding back into poverty."

"You make the rest of the world suffer poverty, instead," Katara said levelly.

It was Zuko who spoke up again, though he could no longer keep himself from sounding half-asleep. "Without denying that much wrong has been done – have you ever thought about how, in the old days, only the airbenders really travelled anywhere? The rest of us had to stay where we were, and deal with bad soil – or next to no soil, in your tribe's case – and people would often be unable to get help in time. Now there are fast ships, and good roads, and pulley systems to get people quickly up the mountains –"

"You keep glossing over those wrongs. It doesn't work that way. You still want to capture Aang, despite everything!" Katara replied.

"Yeah, that's kind of a sticking point for me," Aang put in.

"I don't expect you to understand." Zuko turned away.

"So be more like the great philosopher you're pretending to be and explain it to us in simple terms," she challenged him.

"Good one, Toph. Because there's nothing _to_ understand," Sokka said roughly.

"You question the limits of understanding?" Iroh made a complicated hand gesture. "It is an interesting conundrum, one which… we're out of tea already! Let me make some more. Zuko, there's no water left in this bucket. Where can I refill it?"

"There's a well over in that direction. It's dilapidated; you shouldn't be trying to work it with your injury. If you're sure you'll be okay in this company, I'll go."

"I would be greatly obliged!"

Zuko stomped away with the bucket. Aang waited till he was out of earshot, then said, "This is really good tea, thanks! – but I'm more worried about the practical than the philosophical."

"Under the circumstances, those priorities are understandable. Anything in particular on your mind?"

"Well, do _you_ want to capture me?"

Iroh suddenly became extremely focused, but rested his hands on his knees placidly as he answered, "I'm retired, even if I weren't what I am now – a refugee. These matters of strategy are best left to those still involved in the matters of the Fire Nation."

"You didn't answer my question."

"We often ask questions with meanings far different from those suggested by mere appearances. If you truly wish it, however – I have always left that decision up to Zuko."

Aang's shoulders and jaw tensed for a scowl as he crossed his arms.

"To answer another of your questions – I am here as Zuko's uncle and teacher. Not his jailer. Not his commander. I know how you must feel about my nephew, but believe me when I tell you there is good inside him. He is who you should be having this discussion with."

"Good inside of him isn't enough," Sokka retorted. "If it ever got outside him too, well, then, maybe, but that'd be a long wait. We don't really have the time for that, understand?"

"Haste is a dangerous friend to have," Iroh mused.

"Well, it doesn't look like we have other friends to choose from," Aang answered mulishly.

"Don't you? I will say again that it is a great gift you have – the ability to create the kinds of friendships which permit you to accomplish so much. Do not let yourself be blinded by appearances, though."

"They're very visible appearances," Aang argued. "For instance, Zuko just called me a monster. I can't exactly unsee that."

"He did? Over what, exactly?"

"He thinks I meant to kill those people at the North Pole. I didn't! You were there, you actually bothered to talk to us and tried to help – can't you tell him?"

Iroh stayed silent for some seconds. "I cannot see inside your heart. I will trust you when you say you did not intend the consequences, but by your own words, the appearance of death is so very visible that it eclipses any intentions. Consider this – I risked almost nothing with my actions. Zuko risked everything to talk to you and try to help. Yet you do not seem to have seen that."

Toph couldn't let it go unsaid. "Nothing? One of the many other accusations Zuko flung about was that you were declared a traitor because of what happened at the North Pole."

"That is true, but I lost nothing by that. I am, in a way, relieved to be a simple refugee. The place of my birth has grown strangled with wild growth. I have long sought other gardens."

Aang grew expectant. "But if, say, someone did the necessary clearing up?"

"There is a right way and a wrong way to do most things. There is a story that you truly ought to hear," Iroh sighed painfully, "but unfortunately, Zuko will be back within minutes, and he will not appreciate me telling it."

"But you can talk freely now!" Sokka said.

"I am not afraid of him hearing it," Iroh answered severely. "It concerns him, after all. But I do not wish to cause him the pain of reliving it yet again. A summary would not allow you to understand. I will say, however," his words grew very precise, "that I will never forgive Firelord Ozai for what he did to my nephew." Toph blinked. Wow, that was quite the declaration of loyalties.

After a heavy pause, he continued. "Zuko knows the full price of defying his father in the slightest thing. He has been ordered to capture you, and yet he took the slightest chance of negotiating peace with you instead, when he knew exactly what would happen if he should not succeed and the Firelord found out. I will wager that the only reason you are still free is not because Zuko is not competent enough, but because he is not ruthless enough. Think on that, before you accuse him of anything."

"He got beaten by his little sister. Sure you're not biased?" Sokka said.

"Azula is a firebending prodigy, yes. She is also ruthless, charming, and completely without shame. It is not a combination I prefer."

Toph's ears pricked up. "Does she know that?"

"I'm sure I've made no secret of it."

"Look," Katara said, "I'm having trouble understanding how anyone could attack a member of their own family without good reason. Maybe part of the reason she did has to do with you demeaning her like this?"

"Ah, you are like Zuko – you are searching for reasons in the unreasonable." Katara choked on her tea and Toph gave her a 'friendly' thump on the back. "Perhaps there is time for a very quick story. There is a game children play in the Fire Nation – it is similar to tag, but with pretend firestrikes. For children who are firebenders, it is a good way to practice some simple forms, while for those who are not, it is just fun."

"Oh, I know! Kuzon and I used to play that!" Aang interrupted.

"Then perhaps you will be able to imagine what would happen if someone were to use actual fire to play that game."

Aang grimaced. "You'd have to dodge _really_ fast."

"Even that would not always be enough, though Zuko did, indeed, learn to dodge really fast. When we found out, Azula's defense boiled down to "they were just accidental slips, and anyway, we have lots of burn salve, so what's the problem?" Since one does not expect a six-year-old to understand the consequences of her actions, she was let off with a lecture. It wasn't until much later that I found out that even at that age, she knew that Zuko would be punished for injuring his innocent little sister, while she wouldn't be, and used that fact against him freely. As far as I know, he never did snap back at her, despite heavy provocation."

Very interesting. "You think he's still holding back," she said.

"He always tried to be a good older brother," Iroh nodded.

"Against a prodigy, would it matter?"

"Perhaps not, but sometimes I wonder."

"Look, I'm sorry if I sounded like I care which of them would win in a fight," Sokka interrupted. "Let them settle it between themselves. Aang's right – Zuko is annoying when he keeps chasing us. He won't succeed, whatever you think, but enough is enough!"

"I would not say it has been a healthy pastime for him," Iroh agreed.

"Healthy? You're worried about _that_?" Sokka sputtered.

"We both wish him to stop. I am headed for Ba Sing Se, as a simple refugee. I'm sure I can persuade Zuko to accompany me." He spoke lightly but his shoulders drew in briefly. "As for Azula, while I have no influence with her, as you have seen, you've dealt a heavy blow to her pride. She will not be back for some time – but I would advise you to keep an eye on her. She is a formidable opponent, and from what I hear, she is about to build a giant drill for wall-smashing purposes. I don't know where, exactly, but I would suggest checking the Fire Nation colonies nearest Ba Sing Se. If you truly wish my advice on who needs your oversight most to keep the balance, I would suggest starting with her."

"We'll keep that in mind," Aang sighed.

He was still holding something back. "Are you _sure_ you can't help us any more than that right now," she frowned at Iroh.

"I wish it could be otherwise," he spread his hands.

"You could make it otherwise," Sokka argued. They went back and forth like that a few times more, but with nobody on either side budging. Iroh maintained that he and Zuko were now simple refugees, who would not even be a factor anymore. Toph, even though she trusted him, didn't see how that was possible. Zuko came back with the water and they had some more tea, but the atmosphere was a lot more strained now. With lingering dissatisfaction, they left.

"That was a waste of time," Aang sighed.

"No, it wasn't," Toph argued. "You wanted to know what kind of Firelord Iroh would make, and that's pretty clear, isn't it?"

"He doesn't want to be."

"Not under these circumstances. He might change his mind if the circumstances changed," she warned.

"We also found out that we don't need to worry about being chased, at least for a while," Katara sounded fairly cheerful. Aang heaved another sigh. "Oh, and we found out that you really have no other choice but to fight the Firelord, so you don't need to wonder and feel guilty," Katara tried to soothe Aang. He nodded, but the rest of his body language was gloomy.

"We also found out quite a bit about the royal family and the way that firebenders think. It's not actively useful now, but I can see how it might come in handy in the future," Sokka mused.

"You can? I can't," Aang said.

"Well, that's why you need to leave the planning part to me," Sokka sounded upbeat as he patted Aang on the shoulder.

"Really, Snoozles? Sure that you won't need a little help?" she challenged him.

"Well, maybe a little," he agreed, showing a bit of sense, for once.

"I think if we ever run into him again, you should repeat some of those questions. He was hinting strongly that the answers could change," she said.

"Hinting? When? I heard no hinting," Aang said.

"Did you even notice that he said he owed no loyalty to Firelord Ozai anymore? Doesn't even think of him as family?" She grinned smugly when it turned out that she'd been the only one to pick up on that. Listening in on courtly intrigues did come in useful sometimes. Explaining those kinds of subtleties to people who had never encountered that way of life, on the other hand… in the end, she gave up. "Just trust me. I know these things."

"You're the expert," Aang nodded. "Okay."

"Where to now?" Sokka asked. "He seemed awfully eager for us to follow Azula. It could be a trap, though."

"We're going to find your dad," Aang said firmly. "I promised. After that, however, I think we should at least check it out."

"Maybe not so fast," Katara sounded worried. "You should make sure you can beat her again, if it comes to that. I think you should learn a fair bit of earthbending first – maybe some firebending defense, if we come across Blue in time."

"We'll figure it out as we go," Aang said. "Water Tribe first! Toph, how about that lesson? I'm ready!"

* * *

><p>The need to for Zuko to rest after the Avatar's group left didn't give them much opportunity to talk, and Zuko spent most of that opportunity insisting that Iroh should wake him up at the slightest thing. Finally, he fell asleep. Iroh himself was deeply tired, but he felt unusually good all the same. When he woke up around noon, he actually felt rested. He didn't have long to ponder the pleasant mystery, because even though he made his movements as quiet as possible, Zuko slept restlessly and startled awake.<p>

Afer a fruitless attempt to get Zuko to rest some more, Iroh decided that they might as well get right down to business. "Zuko, I always thought that when you said your mother was gone, you were speaking of her death. At other times, you did refer to her as dead. What happened?"

"I wish I knew." Six years, and the grief in his voice was still the same. Zuko described that confusing midnight conversation, the way his mother seemed wary of the sound of footsteps outside, and how he couldn't get answers out of anyone the next morning. "Eventually, I thought that she must have died, because she didn't return. What did you hear, Uncle?"

Iroh cast his mind back. When at last he'd returned to the palace – two years fighting in the war, two years fighting to see his son – there had been many changes. Ursa had always brought out the best in Ozai; the changes in him were noticeable. However, he'd been busy trying to navigate his way amongst no-longer-familiar surroundings, with the ache in his heart still so raw that the effort almost seemed more than he could bear. What did he care about politics anymore? Why should he remember and follow all the myriad little protocols for eating his dinner "properly" when all he wanted was to get the meal over with? But it was his home, and there were expectations, and he was just starting to learn to feel pleasure again, so he did his best to maintain a certain level of civility.

Given the jealous way that Ozai behaved, his main attempt at civility had been to show that he could care less about the throne. He'd been surprised not to see Ursa there, but hadn't given Ozai's explanation a second thought, because it seemed plausible. "Your father told me she died of a sudden illness, the same one which killed our father. I do remember asking him once why it seemed like you thought she left, and he said something about that being the cover story, that she went into quarantine a few days before her death. Yet that does not fit well with what you've just told me."

"But it could be true, if Dad just didn't want to frighten me… but why did she seem to be trying to hide, then? If she was leaving for quarantine, she wouldn't have come to see me at all, would she? If… no, no, that can't be…" Zuko pressed his hands to his face.

Iroh waited a little while, then gently prompted, "Zuko, I get the feeling that there's something else you're not telling me."

"It could – it could look suspicious. I'm sure she had nothing to do with it, though. She liked you."

Iroh waited.

"It's just the timing of it. Uncle, remember what I said about the audience with Grandfather Azulon?"

"Of course."

Zuko struggled with himself to even begin to tell the story, but eventually, it all came out in fits and starts. Iroh just sat there, poleaxed. Iroh's relationship with his own father had sometimes been distant, but always quite cordial. In the last few years, as his eyes had opened more and more to the truth, he would have described the man as a sour, controlling manipulator, but one who was a good ruler and deserved respect. _No,_ he wanted to say. _He couldn't have ordered your death. No one could have done that to an innocent child just to prove a fucking POINT._ Except that Zuko was so busy telling him how of course, Grandfather couldn't have meant it, and had changed his mind, and Dad would never have wanted to kill him, and it was probably all a tale by Azula to scare him – Iroh threw his arms around Zuko, more like a drowning man than anything. At last he understood viscerally just why Zuko worked so hard to believe that Ozai, his father, was a good and loving man. To think otherwise brought pain, and devastation, and a loss of every bit of solid ground under your feet. _Is that in me?_

Under different circumstances, Iroh might have been a grandfather himself by now. His grandchildren wouldn't be tokens on a board – _Spirits, please, they wouldn't be_. How could his father love him and take pride in him, then do such a thing to his own grandchild? Could his father have ever ordered him to kill Lu Ten? Iroh couldn't imagine such a horror – but apparently, his father could.

If Ozai hadn't inherited, Iroh might have had to face questions of succession – and with Lu Ten gone, the obvious thing to do would be to choose Ozai, to be followed by his children. Why didn't Ozai understand that? Did he really think that Iroh would throw his own brother away, like their father did to Zuko? On the other hand, why wouldn't he believe that? In their family… nothing was what it seemed. He'd said as much to Zuko without understanding the full import of that.

Iroh's blood chilled as some questionable events suddenly took on a new, more sinister meaning. Ozai hadn't killed Zuko – but he'd always valued his son less than he should, and he heard his own father treat Zuko as expendable. Once the thought had been thought, would Ozai ever be able to unthink it?

Zuko must know, on some level. A smart boy, he must be aware that his father _could_ have given in to the idea. He must have known that his grandfather wouldn't grieve him, and his sister would downright revel in his death. Even his mother, who loved him, turned out to be capable of murder in this story. (Iroh was caught between anger at what she must have done and understanding. If he'd been there that night and had to choose between his father and his nephew, he'd have tried for the third option, but the entire situation was nightmarish.) Iroh hadn't been there, and Zuko had to wait two years for his uncle to come back and become capable of protecting him. (Did he believe that Iroh would? Did he never reveal this before because he thought that Iroh would blame him for what happened?) At the time, it must have looked like he'd be alone and defenseless, so he denied everything. Always eager to please, yes, but was that when he'd first started doing everything in his power to be the kind of son Ozai wanted? The kind who would at least be kept around out of usefulness, if nothing else?

"Uncle, please!" Zuko sounded frantic; Iroh realized that he'd been trying to get his attention for a minute. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong is our whole family! How could they do that to you?"

Zuko looked away. "I didn't mean to upset you, Uncle. It happened a long time ago. It doesn't matter."

"Don't, Zuko. I know it's hard, but you know why it matters. Otherwise, you'd never have told me."

Zuko's jaw clenched. "I let Azula get to me, that's all." A sudden expression of shame crossed his face. "I shouldn't have come sobbing to you for sympathy. I'm sorry."

"Is that what you think you just did? No, Zuko. Don't be sorry. Be more aware of the truth, even when it's painful."

"I'm trying!" Flames washed over Zuko's hands for a second. "I don't know where my head is today; I need to check on your wound."

Iroh let Zuko occupy himself with the necessities for a little while, and even drank down the herbal infusion with only token protests (he knew from Zuko's experience just how painful this was about to get). In the meantime, his thoughts ran along a course between rage and grief. They'd have killed Zuko – Zuko, his second son, his beloved child – and the worst part, it was supposed to be done for his benefit! A son ought not to curse his father, especially not if he knew, as Iroh did, what cursed spirits went through, but Iroh made a formal exception then and there. _I curse you, Father. I reject your "care" of me, and I curse you. May your spirit blister with the anguish you tried to inflict, tenfold, and ten times tenfold!_ He thought that this might be unreasonably merciful, but for the sake of keeping the right balance between justice and vengeance, he settled for that.

His father was beyond reach of earthly justice, but Ozai wasn't. _I once held back from attacking you because I thought you would live to know what you lost when you sent Zuko away. I thought that even you would know grief at the loss of your child! You wouldn't, however, would you? Well, by Agni, I will not hold back now! Zuko will live to be a hundred, happy and respected, beloved by all who know him, if I have anything to say about it, and I do!_ He had always wanted the best for Zuko. He'd already spent some time setting plans into place for making sure that Zuko would have the kind of life he deserved, no matter how the war went. In the conversation he'd just had with the Avatar's group, he'd done what he could to get them to reconsider Zuko. It occurred to him now that clearly, the Avatar was looking for someone new to lead the Fire Nation.

Iroh had always thought that Zuko would make an excellent Firelord, but he wasn't sure that it was the path to happiness for his nephew, which was why he hadn't done much to move things in that direction. Until now. With that kind of powerful ally, Zuko could accomplish much, whether he chose to assume the throne in the end or not – and Iroh would make sure it remained a choice. If Zuko did become Firelord, that would be the most satisfying retribution upon Ozai. The important thing was to plant the possibility in the Avatar's mind. Iroh regretted having just missed the opportunity, but their destinies were clearly so intertwined in any case that he was sure there would be other opportunities.

Once the treatment was completed and Zuko seemed steadier, Iroh spoke up. "You know, Prince Zuko, forgiving the unrepentant is like drawing pictures on water. In your case, it seems to have downright led you to near-drowning."

"What does that even mean?" Zuko brushed the words away irritably as he bent over the pot in which the bandages boiled for reuse. "We seem to have completely lost sight of the topic. What I meant to ask is, if my mother didn't die, then where do you think she could be?"

Iroh's frustration at Zuko's unswerving habitual manner got the better of him. "Prison or exile, I should think."

Zuko whirled on him with a betrayed expression. "Don't you dare joke about this!"

"I'm not. Zuko, put it together. You were in danger, she did the only thing she could to protect you, and she paid the price. When she came to see you, she must already have known she wouldn't see you again. Frankly, I'm surprised that you're so sure she's still alive, under the circumstances."

"_What_ circumstances?"

Unreasoning rage, how lovely. Iroh sighed and tried a different approach. "Zuko, are you trying to get something out of this conversation or not? If she is alive and hasn't returned by now, then it's because she couldn't. Whether the restraints are physical or otherwise, they must exist."

Some of the rage drained. "That's what I thought. At least… you don't think she didn't return because she didn't want to?"

"You and Azula were her world. She wouldn't have left you if she had any choice, and she would have torn down mountains before admitting she had no choice."

Zuko ducked his head. "Thanks, Uncle." A frown followed. "Wasn't my father part of that?"

"At one time, yes. In later years, though… you understand, she never complained; she still cared for him. There was talk around the palace, though, that they argued a lot more often and more… bitterly."

"I never knew." Zuko was getting into self-loathing territory again. Iroh hastened to prevent that.

"Why would you? I'm sure they hoped to work things out, and it is unfair to place adult burdens before children's eyes."

"No, I should have known. She used to be happy so much; we all were. Then… she started being sad. Even in the pictures of her, she looks sad. She tried to pretend she was happy, but she wasn't."

"I am telling you, Prince Zuko, those were not your concerns to resolve."

After a few rounds of arguing back and forth on the subject, Zuko gave up. "Anyway, Uncle, the important thing is that I want to start looking for her. If you have any advice on that, I want to hear it."

He stroked his beard thoughtfully for long moments. "When she spoke to you for the last time and startled at the sound of footsteps – did it seem like she expected those footsteps, as of someone who came to take her away?"

Zuko cast his mind back, unconsciously wrapping his arms around himself. "No, she paused during that time, as if to let the person pass without hearing. Then, when she left, she drew up a hood over her head. Oh – she also wore dark clothes, though with some decoration at the collar. Instead of the royal ornament, she wore just a small flame insignia in her hair. I think she was hiding."

He nodded. "Then imprisonment – at least, in a Fire Nation prison – seems unlikely. So she left the palace inconspicuously. I heard no rumors about what happened to her – which is interesting in itself, come to think of it. There was no funeral for her, was there?"

"No," answered Zuko with some surprise.

"So the story about her dying of an illness shortly after Firelord Azulon is nonsense. People would have known of it. _You_ would have known of it." Zuko seemed torn between nodding and retorting angrily, so Iroh eased up on his attempts to get Zuko to face the truth for the moment. "It strikes me that the easiest way to get people to pay no attention to one's disappearance is to disguise it as something more ordinary. The jewellery she wore – enough to proclaim her to be Fire Nation nobility to those who didn't know her, without revealing quite who she was. So. A fight with her husband – a real one, I'd wager – a showy exit, to be followed by a quiet return to do things best done under cover of darkness and say goodbye, and a second, unseen exit. She'd have gone somewhere expected, like a relative. No, no, she wasn't that close to any of her cousins, and they could contradict the story. Just a house where she could be alone, then. A few letters in the following weeks, unread by anyone but Ozai, of course. He would reveal to someone that she wasn't coming back after the appropriate period of time – possibly use the illness excuse for those who would find it strange that she could abandon her children – and ask that it be kept quiet – out of concern for the children, of course. The rumor mill would do the rest, then quiet down in a few weeks more."

Zuko's fists clenched and unclenched during the telling, but he kept his temper remarkably well in check. "If and only if – what then?"

"That depends on what exactly happened that night, but if I'm right, she would have had to leave the Fire Nation shortly afterwards, and go somewhere where no one could possibly know or recognize her. The colonies, or even areas slated for conquest, would not be safe for her – you never know when someone is sentimental enough to remember old appearances. No, it would have had to be some place like – Ba Sing Se – where we are headed!" Iroh finished with a triumphant grin.

Zuko seemed more horrified than comforted; close to hyperventilating, in fact. "Uncle," he managed, "there was… something else. I'm sure I'm wrong, but if not…"

Iroh patted his shoulder, but Zuko just hunched in on himself more. "Tell me," he sighed.

"I… overheard the Avatar planning at one point. He was talking about Sozin's Comet, the one that's coming back this summer. A great deal of nonsense, too, and he _is_ being influenced by the traitor Avatar, I don't know why I didn't realize it before –" At Iroh's quelling look, he stopped rambling quite so much. "The point is, he said the previous Avatar gave him a prophecy – that he had to defeat my father before the comet came, or Dad would use its power to 'end the war once and for all.' I just – I panicked, it was stupid, I know, and consider the source, right? – but something about the way he said it – Dad would never do that, but he has always been impatient – I had this – unreasonable, right? – Ba Sing Se has never fallen – a comet's power could be used to do a lot of damage in a short time – the Air Nomads couldn't escape – it's childish, but I was frightened. He couldn't do that, right, Uncle?" Tears began to trickle down his nephew's face. "He couldn't. I don't know what's wrong with me, that I can even think he –" Iroh started to say something, but Zuko ran on so fast that by the time he made a sound, there was already more: "but that time I asked he was furious – like he wanted to punish the people still resisting our armies – the war was supposed to be good, and it's not!"

In the couple of seconds Zuko took to gasp for air, Iroh finally managed to speak. "Zuko, slow down! There's nothing wrong with thinking that your father is ruthless when it comes to conquest when he is."

"Not like that! Not – dishonorable, without letting people have a chance. Even if he does want to be the one to obtain final victory."

Iroh looked Zuko straight in the eye. "Zuko, in his entire life your father has never thought about honor as much as you have in three years."

Zuko's gaze skittered aside. "Why are you saying that? I'm the one who lacks honor, not him."

"Even if you were right – which you aren't – that still means that you're the one who keeps evaluating actions in terms of honor! Your father is only used to seeing things in terms of victory. It's our family blindness, again."

Zuko actually calmed down a bit. "Right, I get that. Even Dad can make mistakes. He needs to hear from others – well, that's exactly what I wanted to do. I guess we'll be following the Avatar again," he sighed.

"You still think he will listen to you? After everything that's happened, after the orders he gave Azula, when you know that he has never permitted himself to be swayed by much of anything?"

"Once I prove myself, yes! He won't really want to do – that. He's better than that. Even Azula wouldn't want such a tainted victory."

An idealist. Somehow, they'd raised one despite everything; an idealist who judged other people by the measure of his own heart. It gave Iroh great hope for the future of their nation, but only if they could safely get past the immediate future. "Prince Zuko, I hate to say this, but you're being downright dense about your father and sister."

"You don't have to figure out a nice way to tell me I'm stupid. I know already. You nearly died just now, because I couldn't figure out how to deal with Azula!"

Iroh chuckled. "Now you're just going over the top. Azula is plenty foolish enough on her own. Also, I got some very nice tea out of the encounter, so all in all, not bad!"

"Stop treating everything like it's a joke!"

"Such rage isn't healthy, Prince Zuko. One who smiles rather than rages is always the stronger."

"Aaaugh!" Zuko screamed, grabbed the nearest rock, and hurled it with all his strength. It shattered against a nearby boulder. Iroh gave a showy wince. "I hate putting on a smile!"

"You should take your teacher's advice, Prince Zuko. Learn to like it! It's fun!"

"You mean I should be more like _you_? Well, let me tell you, why would I want to be like you? Why would I want to act like a complete fool, and then smile about it, and never actually be happy? Don't lie! You haven't been happy in years! Not since Lu Ten died!"

The words hung between them for long moments. Iroh's heart ached. Quietly, he answered, "Perhaps I have acted more like I wished to feel than how I actually felt on occasion. Do you really think that it would make me happier to rage and scowl and tantrum? Yell about the son I've lost rather than pay attention to the one before me?"

Zuko sat down as if his strings had been cut. "No, no, I'm sorry. You're not like me, and that's a good thing. But Uncle, I'm not like you, either! And I've been horrible to you, and you just – I hate how you make light of it! At least my father cares enough to try to teach me! You sit there all smug and you tell me that I'm doing it wrong, but you don't ever, ever, act serious about it!"

Iroh grabbed the shaking boy by the arms and drew him in close. "Zuko, Zuko, shh…" Despite every angry complaint Zuko had ever thrown at him, Zuko had never once, in all their years together, alluded to the fact that Iroh's inheritance had once been considered more important than his own life, and he still wanted Iroh's happiness, even if he misunderstood. Iroh had known what it was to be resented all his life – by his younger brother, by the troops who thought he might not have earned his rank fairly, by the members of the White Lotus who had not been able to remain completely philosophical about their newest member. How had he become so lucky, that the one person who had good reason to resent him didn't? How did Zuko even trust him still? His poor nephew, doing so much right when life kept handing him one thing wrong after the next.

"I teach you what I can, even when those are not the things you would prefer to learn."

Zuko didn't seem to hear him, lost in some painful reflection. "Don't you care?" He wasn't sure what Zuko meant, and after a little bit of silence, Zuko answered his own question. "No, I'm sorry, I know you do."

"I do. So let's not have any more such foolishness, but start in on your training. Perhaps your first lesson should be about creating lightning. Lightning is a pure expression of firebending, without aggression. It is not fueled by rage or emotion the way other firebending is." Zuko raised his eyebrows. "Some call lightning the cold-blooded fire. It is precise and deadly, like Azula." Zuko looked thoughtful; good, he understood the importance of knowing the enemy's tactics, even if he wasn't ready to call Azula the enemy. "To perform the technique requires peace of mind."

"All right, I get the point already. I'm calming down. Despite how you just changed the topic _again_."

Iroh nodded with a smile. "Noted, though I believe your complaint was about me not taking things seriously, and I do take your lessons seriously. So find your calm, and I'll make some tea while you do that."

Zuko sighed, but settled down to meditate. Soon after that, Iroh showed him the principles. As soon as Zuko tried the technique, however, he was thrown backwards by the explosion. Iroh tried to help him through this, but his stance and concentration and even the ability to separate the two energies weren't the problem. As a student, he was eager to learn. For the rest, however… After allowing Zuko to work off his frustration through a few more unsuccessful attempts, Iroh came back over. He explained again about the need to master inner calm in order to master lightning, but however he phrased it – turmoil, lack of peace, or shame – Zuko continued to deny that he had any problem.

As badly as Zuko needed to address this, he obviously wasn't ready. Iroh offered to teach him to redirect lightning instead – a useful technique in itself, not to mention that it gave him a long-awaited opportunity to get Zuko to consider the balance of the elements. Zuko once again became the attentive pupil – it even seemed to Iroh that Zuko was beginning to think through the implications beyond the immediate lesson. When Zuko practiced the motions over and over, it was much more like a meditation in movement than his attempts at creating lighting. Iroh was pleased when within just a few hours, Zuko showed consistent mastery of the energy flow. It was often like this: Zuko would struggle with simple forms, and then surprise Iroh by extraordinary skill at something which should have been too advanced for him, like the breath of fire. Iroh would have dearly liked to understand the pattern, but although he'd come up with a few theories over the years, nothing explained it completely.

Too much skill and not enough sense proved a bad combination, since Zuko announced that he wanted to practice with real lighting. "What, are you crazy ? Lightning is very dangerous."

"I thought that was the point – you teaching me how to protect myself from it!" Oh, Spirits, by that tone, Zuko was about to go off on one of his mulish sprints headlong into danger.

Frantically, Iroh tried to argue him out of it. "But I'm not going to shoot lightning at you!" He half-turned away; it was hard to see how his nephew looked at being denied something he believed necessary, even though it was for the best. "If you are lucky, you will never have to use this technique at all."

"Well, if you won't help me, I'll find my own lightning." Zuko's relatively calm tone was more frightening than any amount of yelling. Iroh could see the black clouds as well as Zuko could.

This was about their previous conversation, wasn't it? Zuko's need to prove himself, his anger at Iroh for being right which combined with despair and shame, his insistence that he did not wish to follow his uncle's path… Iroh grabbed Zuko's arm before the boy could sprint past him on the way to the ostrich-horse. Maybe he'd been wrong to end their conversation then, but he knew better now.

"You don't need to prove yourself, Zuko. Your life is worth far more than you think, and those who made you believe that it is one endless test have done you incalculable damage. Is that why you remember still that you answered 'badly' during the audience with your grandfather? Do you think that a schoolchild's small errors could, for even a moment, justify what came after?"

"I still need to practice! The middle of a battle is no time to find out that I don't know how to deal with actual lighting!"

"Listen to me. You've got it. Don't you believe me? You're going to do just as well with the real thing as you have now. Lightning doesn't have to kill you to do you damage, however. Don't tempt fate." He drew Zuko into a hug, partly to comfort and partly because his nephew's strength was considerable and it was easier to restrain him that way.

"Then why won't you help me? If _you_ threw lightning at me, that would be the safest thing."

"Because I would never forgive myself if I hurt you like that!"

Zuko started struggling harder. "I don't care about that! I can take it! Haven't you ever wanted to burn me yourself? Maybe that'd help in more than one way! I'd gladly let you if you'd just stop acting so inane!"

Iroh tightened his embrace. "Do you remember when you first started sparring regularly again after your banishment?" he murmured. Zuko stilled warily. "I saw the way you couldn't help flinching away from shots that came anywhere near your head. It was such an obvious and exploitable weakness, but you insisted you were fine. You would scream in your sleep, but when I came in to wake you, you yelled at me for doing it, and far too quickly, you learned how to stop calling for help even when unconscious. I didn't know how to help you with that. I was terrified for you."

Zuko stirred a bit, but Iroh patted him to indicate he wasn't done. "I thought I needed to help you feel safe, so I made sure to get your lessons back to basics. You needed more practice with those anyway, whether you like to admit that or not. As much as possible, I tried to keep fire away from you. One day, however, without thinking, I demonstrated a technique to your face – and you didn't react with anything but curiosity. You still had some trouble with others' attacks, less and less as time went by, but never with mine. That's how I knew you did feel safe with me, trusted me – do you have any idea how much that meant to me? So don't talk like I'm ever going to harm you. You know better."

Zuko buried his face against Iroh's shoulder. "I hate being so weak," he whispered. "Sometimes it feels like there's something out there actively malevolent towards me. I can't afford to be weak."

"That would… actually explain quite a few things about your life. However, you aren't weak, and even if something wishes you ill, I am here. I would guard you with my life."

"I don't want you to die."

"I don't plan to die for a very long time yet."

"I don't want you to keep paying for my mistakes."

"Have you ever thought about the fact that I might be paying for my own mistakes? I've lived a long life, after all, and made quite a few."

"No, you deserve much better." Zuko's breath hitched. "Thank you," he said in a small voice.

"This isn't something you thank me for. This is what people who love each other do."

"But I'm –"

"No arguments. So you're difficult. You're going through some rough times, and you're right at the age when you think you know everything. That doesn't change how I feel about you. I know you'll get past all this."

"You should be angry," Zuko said plaintively.

"No."

"But –"

"No. The rain's coming. Let's stop arguing and get indoors."

"Does it take practice to become so annoying in your wisdom?" Zuko asked, but without any bite. In fact, he was smiling a little.

"Oh, a great deal of practice, I assure you! Fortunately, I have the perfect somebody with me to practice on."

Once they had a roof over their heads, Iroh started to brew more tea – it was so delicious, he couldn't resist! Instead of enjoying the tea, however, Zuko carefully asked what they should do about Ozai's possible plans. "We should go to Ba Sing Se," Iroh answered.

"That won't accomplish anything."

"On the contrary, it will accomplish a great deal. There, we can rest and recuperate, make plans – you don't imagine convincing your father to change his mind will be easy, do you? We can gather information, and we can recruit allies." Quite a large number of allies, if need be. A strike team, even. This wasn't going to be settled peacefully, but Zuko clearly needed more time to come to that conclusion. Today, he had taken a very good first step.

"I don't think this can wait," Zuko started to argue, then broke off with a stricken look at where Iroh had been absently rubbing his injured shoulder. "Okay. We'll rest first, but we have to start making plans as soon as possible."


	19. In Search of Clues and Ways Out

**A/N:** Thanks to AGirlWonder for noticing that Iroh wasn't around when Azula was seven (changed to six), and to mafalda157 for noticing a few remaining refs to Toph seeing things.

**Chapter 19**

"Mai?"

Ty Lee's quiet voice almost startled her as she threw her daggers at the ugly and fussily detailed wallpaper of the house that Azula commandeered for the duration. She was working on covering up the nauseating combination of purple and yellow with her own patterns of shining steel. "Hmm?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she drawled. Azula was off practicing, and the flashes of lightning through the window, combined with the sounds of drill parts being hammered, formed a counterpoint to the sound of her own throwing, with the occasional patter of Ty Lee's cartwheels and stretches to provide variety.

"Are you sure? Your aura has been all grey."

They'd just arrived at this dreary little militarized zone and would now have to wait around for the drill to be completed, with nothing to do but wait, for days. If auras existed, she'd have a really good reason. "I don't believe in auras." How many times had she told Ty Lee this?

"That's too bad, but it's still grey. You haven't even cheered up when you," she whispered dramatically, "went to see Zuko."

Yes, very cheering, to see Zuko in such straits and be able to do so little. Mai rolled her eyes. "You can talk normally. Azula's not going to hear at this distance anyway." Thunk, thunk, thunk – the triangle was even, but still didn't quite cover up the yellow swirl the way she'd wanted. She pulled her shuriken out and tried again.

"Mai, are you leaving us soon?" There were unusual notes of seriousness in Ty Lee's tone.

"Where would I go?" she sighed. More cautiously, in case this was some new sort of loyalty test that Azula had forced Ty Lee to go through, she added, "Also, Azula wants my company, so I'm going to stay." The swirl was close to being shredded now, good.

"I don't want you to leave, either. We make a good team, don't we? I'd hate to be doing all this stuff alone!"

Mai blinked and turned to study Ty Lee more closely, then blinked again at the sight. Every time she thought Ty Lee had reached the apex of possible, she was proved wrong. Right now, Ty Lee supported her whole body on just her fingertips while she kicked her legs back and forth through the air without losing her balance. The position made it hard to tell, but she still looked serious, almost anxious. "Don't worry so much," Mai said. "You won't have to. Then, when we're done with all these secret missions, you can go back to the circus and be happy."

"That would be great!" Ty Lee swung one leg towards the ground and did a complicated backflip-with-a-pirouette-in-the-middle, somehow ending in the same position as before. "We can have fun here, too! Azula always has these great ideas; I'm sure we'll have lots of excitement soon!"

Mai smiled very slightly. "Azula does always come up with something. You're right."

"See? We'll all be bestest of friends, like before!"

Friends… when had that stopped? Azula had plucked herself and Ty Lee out of a crowd of other girls at school, and yes, they often had fun playing together, though sometimes, Mai didn't. During the apple incident, for instance. It wouldn't be so bad, if only she could tell Azula that. No more than two attempts sufficed to convince her that keeping quiet was the best way to go there, even moreso than with her parents. "Sure, Ty Lee." She turned back to her throwing.

Sometimes, Mai wondered why they'd been picked. Her most cynical explanation was that as non-firebenders, they wouldn't be able to compete with Azula, but with both of them having an unusual talent, they would not be too boring for Azula to hang around with on a daily basis. When Azula was being particularly kind, she felt guilty for thinking that way, but couldn't throw out the guess entirely.

Nine shuriken and two daggers formed a pretty good imitation of a curled-up silverleaf fern, but the wallpaper just wouldn't quit showing through. She began to fill in the spaces with darts, with her eyes closed to provide a small challenge. Before the Agni Kai, Ty Lee probably meant. Zuko had never, ever been a part of their trio – in fact, unless she needed someone to make fun of, Azula never even mentioned him – but things changed after that, anyway. Azula acted like she didn't care, but became a lot more impatient, changing plans needlessly in midstream. Sometimes, she just stopped where she stood and got angry and didn't want to do anything. (That was probably the one good thing about her pursuit of her brother – she was much more even-tempered again.)

Ty Lee, who had been away visiting relatives at the time, was absolutely shocked to hear the story, but got yelled at for expressing sympathy. (Mai looked sideways – Ty Lee had gone back to cartwheels and wall-jumping with an expression of complete delight, as if she never knew anything other than sickly sweet happiness). Mai, of course, had had her own reasons to be upset, and to hide just how much.

Since coming over to see Azula started to feel a bit like opening a barrel of blasting jelly, both of them took to finding excuses not to do that. After a while, the new lack of closeness felt normal. Eventually, Ty Lee ran away to join the circus and Azula got even harsher in her outlook on the world. By the time her father's dream finally came true and they all left for Omashu, Mai could not have really said that she was leaving any friends behind in the capital. When Ty Lee and Azula swooped in to pluck her out of the quagmire of Omashu, she'd thought, just like Ty Lee did now, that the bad years were over. It was better than the worst parts, yes, and that was as much as she could honestly say.

Small bits of paper fluff cascaded down when she retrieved her weapons this time. A little more work would suffice.

When Zuko mentioned the need to carry money around – _you never know_ – he'd taken something out of his waistband and put it in her hand, closing his own over hers with the object inside. It took her a moment to recognize it – the rock she'd given him so long ago. He'd carried it around all this time, never losing it despite everything, and he tucked it back inside his waistband carefully, like a great treasure. What had she done to merit that? Just a stupid pebble, a present from a girl suffering from a stupid sentimental moment. None of that saved her from having another such moment then and there, however. Blinking hard, she'd traced out badly-worded messages of appreciation, none of which meant what she needed them to mean.

Who knew what Zuko meant with this gesture? She had to be careful not to deceive herself, here, in either direction. Who knew what anyone meant by their actions? She couldn't tell even with those she knew well, that was certain.

* * *

><p>As they searched the hills for Dad's hiding place, Sokka wished he could forget what the old man said, but no. Fighting <em>was<em> all he knew. What he was good at. Katara was the same, but she would, no doubt, go on to do something amazing with her waterbending. So would Toph, only with earthbending. Aang had a great destiny as the Avatar waiting for him. Dad would come back and be their dad again, in between leading their tribe and being a great storyteller. What would _he_ do, though?

Okay, so hunting and fishing would take up some time. He used to protect the village and teach the little kids about being warriors. With the war over, however, it wouldn't need protecting, or, even if it did, there would be all those experienced warriors around. Then, to be honest, the kids had hated his lessons. On considering, he could see why. He'd taken himself too seriously, been too harsh, never let them have any fun or enough potty breaks – but even if he changed all that, they wouldn't need him for those lessons anymore.

So what _could_ he do? Aang would win – the alternative didn't bear thinking about. By the end of summer, he had to decide.

They'd been searching for three days, and it had quickly become clear that the fleet wasn't here, but they still hadn't found the message Bato promised, since a certain jerk had stolen their map. A weird jerk; he pondered the mystery of the remark some more. By this time, he'd decided that it wasn't so odd that Zuko _said_ it – he really wasn't stupid, and Zuko would do well to warn his girlfriend not to underestimate him. Still – how would that arrogant bastard _know_? Just from seeing him in action on a few occasions? At the village – no evidence of competence there. Rescuing Aang for the first time – Aang had pretty much rescued himself, and all Sokka had done was bonk Zuko on the head a few times. (Oh, that was a sweet memory.) At Roku's temple – okay, maybe. After all, he _had_ been pretty clever in coming up with the fake firebending, but he hadn't exactly signed his work. If the jerk had been watching all the time, he'd probably have shown himself earlier. With the pirates, Sokka had quickly turned his two groups of enemies against each other – proper targeting, he'd call that – but anyone could have come up with that. At the Abbey, he'd been the one to distract the shirshu – okay, that one had been quite good. Taken all in all, however, it wasn't an unmixed bag of cleverness.

The only other thing that came to mind was that in following after them, Zuko might have heard tales of Sokka's brilliance. That was nice to think, that people would remember him like that, but somehow, he wasn't sure it happened that way.

"Sokka, look!" Katara's excited voice carried to him from two hillsides over. He ran towards her, then followed her outstretched hand and saw it – a scrap of blue cloth trapped underneath a pile of rocks. Score one for him – despite having only decoded the location once at the Abbey, he'd still gotten pretty close on just his memory! His stomach started doing flips as he scrambled up the slope. Katara scrambled right next to him. They pulled the rocks away with their bare hands, tossing them heedlessly down the slope. There was a box underneath, he could see it – a little further, just a few rocks more – got it!

Katara held her hands cupped together at waist level the way she did when nervous and excited. "Open it, Sokka."

His fingers shook – stupid fingers – but at last he undid the catch. After scrubbing his hands of dirt on his pants, he reached in to take the map inside. He scanned it eagerly, almost too unbearably excited to take it in, but at last, he did. Oh, no.

"Sokka!" Katara was beside him suddenly, with an arm around him like he needed to be supported. "Is it… is Dad…?"

"We missed him," he groaned.

"But you've got the map!"

"No, I mean we missed him again! Read this – it says they only planned to be at that location for three weeks!"

"Well," she chewed her lip, "that's a disappointment, but we're still better off than before. We now know exactly where to go and won't need to search like this again."

"Don't you see how often they keep moving? We have to find the location on the map, then the location of the next one, and by the time we get there, they'll have moved again! And maybe twice! It'd take us over a week just to get to this first spot! Aang – Aang still needs us more. We can't take up too much of his time trying to meet up with Dad, especially since earthbending has proven to be so hard for him. We need to help him train, we need to do some planning – find some information on how to get into the Fire Nation just for starters… Why does everything always have to go wrong for us?" He tore away from Katara's attempt at a comforting hug and covered his face with his arm. He wasn't sure if he might start crying.

A minute passed in heavy silence. "Wait! There's something else here!"

"Doesn't matter," he answered dully.

"No, Sokka, look! It's a letter from Dad!"

"A letter? Let me see!"

He almost tore the letter trying to get it from her, because she wouldn't let go. "I want to know what it says, too!" she bristled.

"All right, all right," he sat down beside her. "We'll read it together."

When they were done reading, Sokka just kept sneaking glances back at the lengthy scroll. There was a lot catch his eye and make him feel warm and happy.

_I miss you so much. _

_I wish you'd come back to me with Bato, but I know you made the right choice, and I know how hard such choices often are._

_When I first heard that, instead of being safe at the village, you have sworn yourselves to protect the Avatar – the person in the greatest danger from the Fire Nation – I was terrified. I wish more than anything that I could keep you safe, but safety in this world has to be won. You're not so little anymore; you can take care of yourselves, hard as that is for me to admit. _

_I'm sorry that I couldn't be there to take you ice-dodging myself. _

The last part was the best. _Whenever I hear of the Avatar now, I will know where you are, and I will know that he would never have made it that far if not for you. Of all the people in the world, it is you, Sokka, and you, Katara, whom he trusts to protect him. The other men think it's hilarious how bursting at the seams with pride I am, but I know that when we finally see each other again, and you tell me of all your adventures, I will have even more cause to be proud. Until that day, know that I love you – Dad._

Sokka wiped at his damp eyes and sniffled happily. It didn't make up for not finding him – nothing could – but this was the next best thing. He glanced over at Katara, wondering whether she would mind if he kept the letter, at least for a few days, or if she wanted to reread it soon, too, and found her staring off into the distance.

"It's okay, Katara. Aang will defeat the Firelord when the comet comes. That's only a few more months! Then Dad and the rest of the men will return to the village, and we'll all be together again."

She nodded. "I wish he'd written more." So did he, but Katara's voice sounded particularly odd and hollow. Before he could answer, she went on, "Two years, and this is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know." She wrapped her arms around herself. "I just thought… never mind. It's not the letter, it's me. You're right, this is already more than we knew about him before."

Sokka put an arm around her shoulders. "Come on. Let's go find the others."

She didn't move. "Do you think he left us letters at the other places, too?"

"I'm sure he did."

"Maybe we could go there after all? I know we can't right now, but later, if we have time," she asked in a rather hopeless tone of voice.

"Yeah, if our travels take us near, of course. But I think Aang will win the war faster than that, and then we can see him instead of just read letters."

"Yes." She let her arms fall to her sides and made an effort to smile. "Could you be the one to tell them what we found, though?"

"Sure."

"Thanks, Sokka." That was a genuine smile, and he smiled back. Anything for his little sister.

* * *

><p>Zuko clenched his hands on his knees and gritted his teeth. This was the fifth time in an hour that charity had been accompanied by scorn. He knew he should be grateful that Uncle was willing to put himself through this for him, but begging in the street went against every fiber. All right, so staying in the wilderness to hunt with fireballs was not so successful – with the small critters they encountered, the heat necessary to kill instantly also resulted in more char than meat. However much he wished for Mai's skill in hitting quick-moving targets with a dagger, he didn't have it.<p>

Uncle had been trying to teach him how to cook, lately, though during most lessons, he got distracted into explaining more about tea-making than about cooking. However, the only thing Uncle knew how to make from the small scraps of meat left post-fireball was broth, and the killing method gave that broth an unpleasant burned flavor. The few other things that Uncle had brought with him in his pack were used up far too quickly during the lessons. Hence, they agreed that they would risk this. Still, Zuko couldn't resign himself. They were royalty. Uncle was, too, even if he seemed determined to forget that at times. Zuko kept his mouth shut, however. The people around them, scornful as they might be, didn't owe the Fire Nation royalty anything.

Did people live like this every day? How could they stand it? No, he knew the answer. Because they had to. He'd been meditating as much as he could, the past few days. It didn't really help with the feeling that he was being shattered apart slowly, and it hadn't provided anything approaching an answer yet, but maybe something might coalesce soon. He hoped it would help him pull himself back together before he couldn't find pieces of himself anymore. He needed to do something. He needed to be busy, but Uncle wouldn't hear of anything but Ba Sing Se.

"Spare coins for a hunnngry old man?" Uncle asked with the same pathos he'd used the previous seven times he'd begun with that line.

"Get a job," the woman tossed off casually.

Zuko wanted to leap up and yell at her that Uncle had nearly died just a few days ago, then spent days dodging pursuit instead of being able to rest properly, and anyway, hadn't been trained in any job, and who did she think she was? With effort, and a lot of careful breathing through his nose without allowing fire to escape, he restrained himself. As soon as she was out of earshot, however, a thought occurred to him, and he stood up. "You know what, I'm probably spoiling your chances here, by being obviously young, strong, and healthy. Why don't I actually get a job? That way, we'll earn twice as much, at least."

"Sit down, Nephew," Uncle sighed. They were being careful not to use their real names on a street where passersby might overhear. "I appreciate the offer, but we'll be moving on later today. Under the circumstances, you would not be able to find anyone willing to hire you."

"Well, don't people do temporary hires, like at the docks to carry heavy loads?"

"In an agriculture-based economy, like this one, without relevant skills, you'd spend most of your time just finding such work. Yes, your best bet would be to work at the market as a basket-carrier, but they earn perhaps a few copper for each trip. This is the wealthy part of town, so we've already made more than that."

Zuko subsided back down onto the ground with ill-grace. He might not be used to working, but it would be better than this. Also, it might give him the money he needed for an offering to the Blue Spirit.

Uncle turned his head to peer at him closely. "I do appreciate the offer. Once we get to Ba Sing Se, finding work will become essential."

"I hate this. You're putting on that false cheer again, and I'm useless."

"No, my nephew, you are quite mistaken. We would not now be travelling in nearly so much comfort if you hadn't found – out in the wilderness, I might add – a healer for me, information on the threats facing us, and," here Uncle's tone became more dubious, "an ostrich-horse to spare ourselves walking. Where _did_ you get that?"

Zuko winced internally. "I bought it."

"With what? You thought I might need the money more, when we parted."

He couldn't see a way out of admitting it. "With money from some things I stole."

Since he was concentrating on his knees, he didn't see Uncle's reaction, but he could hear a shocked intake of breath. "I know we've had some difficult times lately. We've had to struggle just to get by." A hand landed solidly on his shoulder. "But it's nothing to be ashamed of. There is a simple honor in poverty."

"For you, Uncle, yes. You can – do all this, and feel no worse by it. I can't."

"Then it's time you learned. Do you realize that for a poor laborer, that animal represents half a year's wages?"

"The man I stole from deserved it," Zuko turned to protest. Uncle just looked at him, and Zuko dropped his eyes again. Uncle was right, that was a hollow defense. After all, he'd just been thinking of his own convenience. If the mayor hadn't turned up in his path, who would he have stolen from, and what excuses would he have found to do so? The clothes he wore, for instance – he'd spared no thought for their previous owner. "You're right. Still, haven't I seen you slip a few things up your sleeves every now and then?"

"Those are my bad habits," Uncle sighed. "I don't want them to become yours, just because sometimes my common sense vanishes, and I don't do the right thing."

Now he'd gone and made Uncle feel guilty. "That's not why. I know you've never taken anything of much value, and trinkets are probably your only weakness, unlike with me. Still, what I think you don't understand is that I'm not like you. I can't do this," he swept his arm out to indicate the street around them, "with any sort of – peace in my heart. The best I've been able to accomplish is just – not yelling."

"For you, that is already a big accomplishment. Wait, don't be offended; I didn't mean it like that. Twenty years ago, I might have said the same as you, after all. Pride is what we have been taught. There is no shame in having learned those lessons well, but destiny has a funny way of teaching new lessons." He jingled the hat at someone on the other side of the street, but the man ignored him. His glance did slide over Zuko's scar, however, with an unreadable look.

Zuko pulled his hat down more firmly – they couldn't afford to be recognized. "Well, there's the problem, isn't it? What destiny do I have now?"

"Anything you wish! You _will_ find your own destiny. I know it."

"Find it _where_?" he threw up his hands. "Here, where we depend on charity? As a refugee? Even if that's a destiny, I don't want it."

Uncle looked at him closely, and his eyes widened. "You've been in the presence of spirits recently. What happened?"

"I'm not sure," he hedged. Should he tell of the Blue Spirit? Of the Air Nomad sanctuary? So many explanations required…

"That's often the way, with spirits," Uncle acknowledged. "Perhaps you passed through the territory of a particularly suspicious one."

"I was in the Foggy Swamp for a couple of days."

"You've been – ! No, I can see you're not hurt. I'm glad it let you go." Uncle sighed and shook his head. "Troubling as that is, I see, as always, that you have a great destiny in front of you."

"Can you point out where, exactly, more precisely?" he inquired sarcastically as he waved a hand through the empty space in front of him.

Uncle took hold of his wrist and pulled his arm back down. "I mean that you've already fulfilled the part of your destiny that involved finding a certain someone, and have almost grasped another one."

Zuko wondered if Uncle was just saying that to comfort him. _Destiny_, in uncle-speak, so often had been a euphemism for _here's the lesson I want you to learn_. "For how long have you told me that I wouldn't find that person, and that I should seek a different destiny?"

"I was wrong," Uncle answered cheerfully. "It seemed so unlikely, but you –"

Zuko gestured subtly at him, because he'd become aware of someone watching them.

"– have accomplished much. Oh, look at me, nattering on. We should get moving – we need to reach the next village before we stop for the night, and who knows how long that'll take?" Under the cover of a stream of chatter, they quickly gathered up their things. Zuko could hear the footsteps of some person trying to be quiet. Robbers? Someone who recognized them? One of the Rough Rhinos? The forewarning Mai gave had allowed them to hide their trail and avoid a meeting so far, but with his luck… it didn't matter. They had to get out of here.

They almost made it to the gate when they were intercepted. A gang of several people swung into place around them. Though coordinated, they did not seem to hold their weapons well. There were no guards in sight. _Okay, lesson learned, robbery is bad, can we move on now?_

A standard attempt at extortion followed. Zuko supposed these must be relatively ethical robbers – they only wanted two-thirds of the money. He could not accept, however, that after going through so many indignities, Uncle would not even have enough for a decent room and meal tonight. "No," he answered harshly.

"Lee, be reasonable. The money isn't worth it. I would much rather make some new friends, instead," Uncle smiled widely.

"We don't need such friends!" Before Uncle could stop him, he snatched his swords out of hiding and leapt down from the ostrich-horse. "Let us pass, or it will be the worse for you."

The robbers laughed at the sight of one young man challenging the lot of them. In a flash, Zuko swept one man's legs out from under him with a kick, disarmed one of the women with a sharp flick of his swords, and knocked down a third robber with an elbow to the chest, then pointed his blade directly at the man's throat. "Let us pass," he repeated.

Now that they'd proved to be more trouble than they were worth, the gang scattered. Zuko led the ostrich-horse away a safe distance, then sheathed his swords and leapt back into the saddle. "There. You could have done even more. Why give in to such poor fighters?"

"Because I didn't realize we had a visible way to become threatening, not without revealing ourselves as firebenders, and only a fool, however skilled, invites several armed people to pile on top of him. It only takes one lucky hit to get through the best defense."

He flicked the reins – the ostrich-horse was being slow today. Now that the brief excitement was over, he felt even worse than before, and the slowness grated. "So your solution is to declare somebody a friend when they're anything but? That's not how I want to count my friends. Why can't you stick with friends who at least want to help you?"

"Is that all? Friends who want to help me? Hmm. You know, Zuko, perhaps it's time that I showed you something about finding friends in unlikely places. Yes, I believe it's time. Tomorrow, we'll take a slightly more northern route. It won't take us more than a couple of hours out of our way, and it'll be worth it."

"Fine. I'll believe it when I see it." Instead of stowing the swords away again, he decided it might help to avoid unpleasant situations if he wore them openly. The weight of the sheath settled across his shoulder and back comfortably.

"So you will. Settle down. That was quite a good maneuver, I admit. I thought you didn't know much about swords?"

"I used to practice with the ones hanging on the wall in my room," he admitted.

"Ah, I wondered why Zhao found them sharpened. For someone untutored, you have certainly put together an effective way to wield them."

"I also used to watch the drills when bored in class," he said ruefully. "My seat was right by the window. One of the things I really missed being able to do when Dad switched me to tutors instead."

Uncle seemed to hesitate before answering. "Mm-hmm."

"Also," he wondered whether it was a good idea to potentially reopen a wound, but in the end, decided that it would give Uncle one more reason to be proud of his son, "Lu Ten used to show me how to handle all sorts of weapons. You remember, Uncle? How he said that you never knew what skills –"

"– might come in handy. Yes." Uncle sounded wistful and reminiscent, but not too unhappy.

"He taught me a lot," Zuko kept his eyes straight on the road. "It meant so much, that he would take the time for me like that. I wish I'd told him that at the time."

Uncle touched his shoulder. "He knew. I remember him expressing surprise at how much you liked him. He never had a brother or a sister, you know – didn't quite know what to do when it turned out he did have siblings, after a fashion."

"If so, I could never have figured it out. He was the best older brother I could have had."

The hand on his shoulder tightened. As usual, Uncle did not like to talk much about his loss, but sometimes, like now, it seemed to help instead of hurt. So it was that, after a long but fairly comfortable silence, Zuko found himself saying, "There was this little boy I met – about seven – it was his family who offered to feed me in exchange for fixing the roof. I've made some bad mistakes there, and I can't stop thinking about it." He told Uncle the whole story, from the thrown egg to Lee's final words. He wasn't really expecting much good to come from telling it (but it would pass the time) – a lecture on the idiocy of revealing his identity, some words of comfort – it wasn't like Uncle could do anything to change the worst part, where Lee hated him. The expected lecture got shortened to an expressive cough, however, and it felt like Uncle was really listening to him, for once. It was a relief to get it out in the open.

Then, after a thoughtful silence, Uncle offered, "Grievous wounds do not heal in a day, and strong trees take years to grow in charred wastes. Nothing can grow, however, without a seed first being planted, and that is what you have done."

"What does that mean?" He wanted to be annoyed, but it was oddly comforting, to hear such proverbs again.

"Exactly what it sounds like. Think about it."

He snorted, but turned it over in his mind. Maybe he did understand a little of what Uncle meant.

* * *

><p>Aang didn't like how upset Sokka and Katara were after the disappointment of not finding their father. Katara particularly just threw herself into training him more than ever, but somehow, without paying her usual attention. Sokka, at least, mostly went on hunting and fishing trips, but those definitely took him longer than they should, now.<p>

Training with both Toph and Katara left him pretty wrung out at the end of the day, so it took him a little bit to come up with his plan, especially since he couldn't talk it over with Katara. In the end, though, he came up with the perfect thing. Sokka didn't think so, but Aang decided to go through with it anyway. Sokka would see. Mini-vacations would be great! Katara liked the idea and Toph had no objections. In secret, he found himself a flute and practiced. When they arrived, he had to stop Toph from spoiling the surprise, but all the effort was worth it when he heard Katara giggle for the first time in days. He grinned to himself and continued conducting his ground-dog orchestra as Momo fruitlessly chased from one burrow to another.

Sokka interrupted rudely by plugging up the end of his flute with one finger. "This is great and all, but don't we have more important things to worry about ? We should be making plans."

Toph backed him up. "We _did_ make plans. We're all picking mini-vacations." Toph was great!

"There's no time for vacations," Sokka insisted.

No? He looked up at Sokka. "I'm learning the elements as fast as I can. I practice hard every day with Toph and Katara. I've been training my arrow off!"

Katara came to stand beside him. "Yeah. What's wrong with having a little fun in our downtime ?" He flushed with pleasure at his plan working so well.

Sokka crossed his arms and argued some more, all about how they didn't know how to find the Firelord and needed some intelligence to win this war. Maybe he was right, but he didn't have to be such a buzzkill. Hoping that he remembered the right note, he played it on his flute, and a ground-dog popped up directly underneath Sokka. He heard Katara's wonderful giggle again, then she said, "Alright, we'll finish our vacations, and then we'll look for Sokka's intelligence."

He chuckled and they shared a good moment. Sokka just had no idea, but he'd loosen up. First, though… "Your turn, Katara," he said as he held up the map for her. "Where would you like to go on your mini-vacation ?" Was Sokka maybe noticing how much he liked Katara? Was that part of why he was so grumpy now? Anyway, he still wanted her to pick first.

She picked the Misty Palms Oasis – this was going to be great! "Let's go, Sokka! The sooner we get there, the sooner it'll be your turn to pick." He airbent himself to Appa's head. Behind him, he could hear Sokka grumble as he climbed into the saddle then settled at the front. "I'm just a simple guy, with straightforward requests. Do I waste everyone's time by gathering up a boatload of small animals? No. Do I want us to go rocketing off to the other side of the world all unprepared? No, I don't. A map of the Fire Nation, is that so much to ask? No, it's not. Why don't I have friends who appreciate planning?"

"Sokka, stop complaining," Katara interrupted. "Aang knows what he needs to do; why do you think he restricted our search for the mini-vacations to just this segment of the Earth Kingdom?"

"I wish Blue was here. He'd back me up. Hey, he could probably even convince Aang not to goof off."

He turned to give Sokka the stink-eye, but it didn't have the desired effect.

Toph snorted loudly.

"You laugh," Sokka gestured in all directions as he spoke, "but that time Aang didn't want to learn his connection sense, Blue got him to face it head-on even faster than you did."

"Are you weaving a spiderweb?" he asked with false innocence. "That looks like a fun game! If you teach us how to play, we could goof off in ways you like!"

Sokka glowered and set his jaw stubbornly. Katara added, "I would hope that, if Blue was here, he'd appreciate the need for us to take breaks. Frankly, I hope he'd be able to convince _you._ That may, of course, be too much of a challenge even for him."

"Oh yeah?" Sokka argued back belligerently, then deflated. In a much smaller voice, he said, "I wish he'd pop back up already. How long can it take to talk things over?"

"I know you're worried, Sokka," Katara said gently, "but if we know one thing, it's that Blue makes his entrances at unexpected times. For a resistance, there must be tons of things to take care of. I'm sure we'll see him again."

They flew on. The oasis was a flop – nothing like he remembered. The barkeep at the local inn prepared wonderful drinks, using twin swords, which made Sokka sigh even as he insisted they should get those drinks. There, they met Professor Zei, whose excited tales of trying to find a lost library finally cheered up Sokka. He demanded to have that as his mini-vacation, far more forcefully than the situation required. Nobody minded, after all. Sokka was right, they still had a lot to learn.

When they finally found the nearly-buried library and made their way past the guardian, Wan Shi Tong, Aang could barely figure out what to look at first. So many books, so much information! He ended up just randomly flipping through old manuscripts – there were some cool things he found that way, like an ancient civilization that lived entirely on giant lion-turtles – and they seemed to be the ancestors of the Water Tribe! Katara found some information on his past Avatar lives, which was neat.

He thought about the Air Nomad library, still hidden in the swamp. A hundred years ago, he hadn't paid much attention to the Southern Air Temple library – he'd always preferred to be out and experimenting with his glider and his airbending – but he knew it was considered a very good one. Even then, it couldn't have compared with this one, but few people would be able to make it to the middle of the desert. What if he also rebuilt the Temple's library collection? The Air Nomad scrolls would have pride of place, and people would come from all over the world, seeking this or that knowledge, seeing how his people had truly lived, seeing what and who they had lost… He could shift portraits and statues into the library for that purpose – Toph had been showing him how to move large pieces of stone without breaking them. Wouldn't that be nice?

While he daydreamed, Sokka continued his man-on-a-mission rampage, which ended in the burned-out Fire Nation wing of the library. How had Wan Shi Tong permitted such desecration? Before he could figure it out, one of the fox seekers led Sokka to a strange room, a planetarium. That was a lot of fun in itself, and then they figured out the mechanical calendar, and that the "blackest day in Fire Nation history" referred to a solar eclipse. Finally, they had something over the Fire Nation! Then a furious Wan Shi Tong appeared. Just for a little white lie, he wanted to kill them?

In the resulting scramble to get away, then to get back to the planetarium so that they could figure out the date of the next eclipse, Aang quickly understood that Wan Shi Tong cared nothing for preserving knowledge, no matter what he said. What good was knowledge that no one knew? Was it even someone from the Fire Nation who had destroyed so many books? The firebender obviously hadn't hidden his evil intent, and had been allowed to get away. They would not be, even though they just wanted to stop the war. It was so unfair…

As the library shook and shuddered around them, they spun the dial over and over. Finally, the moon crossed the sun. "That's it, the solar eclipse!" Sokka exclaimed. "It's just a few months away." Aang smiled at him – Sokka did have the best ideas. Sokka scribbled down the date, and they ran for the exit. It was too slow. He snapped open his glider. "Sokka, grab on!"

They spiraled up and out, and none too soon. On the bridge where they'd come in, Katara was preparing to face off against the angry spirit. "Your waterbending won't do you much good here. I've studied Northern Water Style, Southern Water Style, even Foggy Swamp Style," the spirit taunted. Katara's expression just grew angrier. She was so brave; no kind of bad odds scared her.

Sokka let go at that moment. Before Aang could try to catch him, he landed on the spirit and bashed him over the head with a book. Wan Shi Tong swayed and fell over; Katara leapt out of the way and smiled at Sokka. "That's called Sokka style! Learn it!" Sokka proclaimed. They began to climb the rope.

Professor Zei refused to leave the library. What could they do but honor his wish? Wan Shi Tong woke up and pursued them, nearly knocking Sokka and Katara off the rope. Aang just barely caught them in time. With two passengers, it was much harder to steer the glider upward, but they made it out just ahead of the spirit. A moment later, the library sank, leaving only an indented circle in the sand.

They'd made it! Katara and Sokka hugged each other in celebration. "The Fire Nation's in trouble now!" Sokka exulted. Aang almost joined them, but… he could only see Toph, sitting in the sand with her head in her hands. "Where's Appa?" he asked.

Toph just shook her head and made a miserable little sound. He was too stunned to react. It was Katara who got Toph to tell the story. Appa, stolen by sandbenders? "Why didn't you stop them?" he yelled.

Toph made excuses. He hated her. "You just didn't care! You never liked Appa! You wanted him gone!" This was just like when they'd been chased by those girls. It was Toph's fault.

Katara put a hand on his shoulder. "Aang, stop it," Katara said. "You know Toph did all she could. She saved our lives." Her hand on his shoulder didn't feel good anymore.

"Who's going to save our lives now? We'll never make it out of here," said Sokka.

Sokka, too? "That's all any of you guys care about – yourselves! You don't care whether Appa is okay or not!" he yelled. Frantically, he put one hand on the ground and tried to find Appa with his connection-sense. Each grain of sand was separate from the next; they shifted as if to maliciously confuse the trail. No, he had to find Appa, he had to… he forced his senses forward… something, he could feel something, a vague direction – good enough. His glider would get him there. Katara was saying something to him, but he didn't hear her. "I'm going after Appa."

The sharp edges of the sand dunes blurred beneath him, endless and featureless. He tried landing a few times to find Appa, but the direction changed unpredictably. He cried out Appa's name and blew his whistle often, but there was nothing. When next he landed, he couldn't even get a direction. With a scream, he raised a dust cloud. Appa… Appa, his only friend from before, his friend for _life_. What was happening? Was Appa hurt, was he even alive? Defeated, he headed back to the others. They'd die without Appa, he knew that. The desert was too big, and even if he could get all three of them atop his glider, they'd be flying too slowly to make it out.

So why was he going back to them? Because he'd been unfair to them, just now, and they were his friends, too. He couldn't leave them, even though they'd all die. It didn't seem like such a bad fate, just now, especially not in company.

* * *

><p>It didn't take long for Iroh to find the local inn and its Pai Sho table. "May I have this game?" he asked. An elderly man ran the game – probably a relatively high-ranked member, since this small village boasted six members of their order, but that didn't matter. Zuko had been surprising him again and again recently, and perhaps he was ready, after all. His nephew still complained at every opportunity, but with a lot less mindless vitriol and a lot more reasoned argument. Iroh would do what it took to support these changes.<p>

In short order, he'd established his credentials. "Welcome, Brother," the man bowed. "The White Lotus opens wide to those who know her mysteries."

"What are you old gasbags talking about ?" Zuko interrupted. Ah, insults; would his nephew never grow tired of masking his ignorance with them? A conversation for a different day. He smiled and spun a tile through his fingers.

"I always tried to tell you that Pai Sho is more than just a game."

Zuko just looked even more skeptical. Iroh exchanged a look with the elderly man, who nodded subtly and said, "Please come with me."

His name was Anguo, and in the house he took them to, they met his wife, Yun-Min. Iroh tried not to take too much pleasure in informing Zuko that the meeting was members-only (as it happened, there wasn't anyone besides himself and the old couple at the moment, and Yun-Min left to attend to something else when he explained that it wasn't a critical meeting). It didn't take that long – most of the details had already been settled at Chailan, though Anguo had much to add regarding the specifics of the local area. The Society here had taken the opportunity to work with those refugees who either had not taken passports with them in their flight or had theirs stolen. There was much they tried to do for those people – from transport to fake documents – and they had connections with the few White Lotus members inside Ba Sing Se, though communication was difficult. Some of the things Anguo mentioned made Iroh frown heavily.

Once they finished talking and went out to eat supper, they found that Yun-Min had been talking to Zuko all this time, so that he hadn't had much time to contemplate his behavior towards his elders. However, it was not all wasted; Zuko seemed to have developed at least a respect for the elderly Yun-Min, to the point of helping her carry the dishes to the table without being asked, and the meal was a companionable one.

Iroh still wasn't sure how his nephew would react to something so obviously contrary to Ozai's plans, but the time to test the waters had come. "A matter of some concern," he began, "is the continuing safety of our refuge. When I mentioned the plans to make a drill to attack the city to our esteemed host, he confirmed that people have spotted major construction of that kind on the shores of the Western Lake, before the Fire Nation drove away all other vessels. Ordinarily, we could rely on the people of Ba Sing Se to defend themselves. However, members of our Society have noted that, while the soldiers of that great city are as capable as ever, the quality of their leadership has gone down quite a bit in the past few years. There have been episodes of great delay in coordinating troops, quite appalling errors in responding to incidents, and so on. It seems that, unless someone gives them warning in time, they will not be able to respond quickly enough when the drill becomes visible from the walls." Zuko listened attentively without protest. "Anguo has already told me that he will do what he can to get the message across, but perhaps, since we are headed that way, we can carry the message to even more people?" He turned to their hostess. "Do you know of anyone we should particularly contact inside?"

Yun-Min, who had not been present for that portion of the meeting, inclined her head. "I see. No, you should not attempt to carry such a message, but for what else could be done… well, that depends on the exact nature of the threat."

He explained what they knew, and she frowned in response. "It will be hard to get them to take the threat seriously on so little information, and hard for us to investigate with our few people."

Zuko turned to him with a sudden feverish excitement. "Well, if you are still so determined to go to Ba Sing Se – and I always thought we could go elsewhere, you know – perhaps we could help more directly? We could investigate the drill ourselves. You and I are acquainted with Azula and the kind of defenses she would leave in place – much more so than the Earth Kingdom locals." Oh, Zuko. This wasn't good.

"If you could do that," Yun-Min began thoughtfully, but Iroh interrupted.

"No! Azula herself has already arrived there, and the drill will be heavily guarded."

"Then of course it's too dangerous for you – but what about me? I could sneak in close. I'm good at sneaking." He spoke a little too quickly and too forcefully – very unhealthy signs.

Iroh cast a glance at the ceiling in despair. "Contrary to what you might think, taking on so many opponents without backup is _not_ a good idea. No, we should leave this problem to the heavily-armed professionals. Warnings only."

"_Sneaking,_ I said, and why exactly would they believe us? If I were in charge of the defenses for a city that big, and two recent refugees demanded to speak to me, would I even listen? Also, wouldn't I be suspicious about how exactly they knew about the danger?"

"I meant that we would spread 'rumors' amongst as many of the ordinary guards as we could. At least a few would always be willing to listen, out of boredom if nothing else. Human nature would take care of the rest."

Zuko grimaced and subsided, but Yun-Min spoke up. "No, when I said you shouldn't attempt to carry the message, I spoke of danger, not duplication of effort. Normally, your plan would work quite well, but in Ba Sing Se, they do not like to hear of the war. Ordinary people who speak of it – often disappear."

("They what?" Zuko reacted, but Iroh shushed him with a hand gesture.) "That seems remarkably…" Iroh put his fingers together, "unproductive. What can they hope to accomplish by that?"

"Perfect control of the city," Yun-Min replied grimly. "Behind their walls, they would be truly untroubled, if not for all the newcomers upsetting the delicate balance of political power. If they acknowledged the war, they might have to do more to protect the surrounding countryside, for instance. A wealthy person, even as a refugee, has connections, has opinions on the way things are run. Expressing those opinions in Ba Sing Se, however, is rarely a good idea."

"This is not at all how I hoped things would go," he said. What would that do to his plans for the White Lotus gathering? If they had to keep themselves hidden from the city authorities in addition to fighting the war, their chances didn't look as good. What would this do to Zuko? His nephew wasn't known for being able to keep his mouth shut, especially under such provocation. Yet there was no other place so convenient for all their purposes.

"The city is sounding worse and worse. We should at least go and take a look at the drill's defenses," Zuko insisted.

"No. It's too dangerous. You do not even know the kinds of guards they might have."

"That's the whole reason for scouting! I know how to avoid being seen."

"You need a better plan than 'Hope the soldiers on patrol are blind and deaf.' You keep forgetting that we are on the run from _both_ nations. Those Fire Nation soldiers will not spare you if they catch you! I know you do not wish to go to Ba Sing Se, but that is where our best chances lie. There's no need to do something so suicidally risky."

Zuko opened his mouth to argue some more, but Yun-Min interrupted. "We have a boat leaving tonight for the other side of the Eastern Lake. It's faster than taking the ferry, a bit more dangerous too, but also more flexible, because we dock north of the West Gate. If, on the way, you can come up with a better plan, then our boat will put you closer than the ferry to the drill's location. However, if you cannot, your esteemed uncle is quite right about the danger."

Zuko nodded unhappily, and Iroh smiled at Yun-Min in gratitude. "Then we ought to get ready," Anguo said. "You are our honored guests – you should rest."

They accepted with thanks. Iroh lay down for a nap – it was an enjoyable way to rejuvenate himself – but he now also took pleasure in no longer needing to sleep as much as before. It had been quite the surprise, waking up and not feeling the need to go to sleep again two hours later. When this kept happening, a quick self-examination showed that his spirit no longer trailed away from his body as far as it used to. There were still many stray wisps, but something about his near-death experience had actually put him mostly back together. Given the danger they faced, it was a very welcome development. Now, if only he could keep Zuko from wishing to borrow trouble…

* * *

><p>The scorching heat of the sand penetrated the soles of Katara's shoes in a way that even icy cold couldn't. Her throat hurt from the dryness, and when she moved, there wasn't even a whisper of water anywhere nearby responding. Even tied up, she had never felt so helpless and miserable, but she didn't dare show it, because the others would stop moving if she stopped. Sokka trudged along gloomily with a listless Momo hanging off his shirt, Aang still hadn't returned, and Toph… Katara really worried about Toph. As annoying as Toph's usual brash and fearless manner could be, to see her behaving like an obedient young girl was far worse. Poor Toph – was this the first time in her life when even her powers hadn't been enough? Probably. Toph had been amazing – she'd kept the library from sinking, and she'd fought the sandbenders when completely outnumbered. No one could have done more. Only Toph demanded so much from herself – well, what Aang said hadn't helped, but ordinarily, Toph could brush his insensitive and untrue remarks away. That she couldn't now…<p>

Behind her, a sudden squabble broke out – triggered by a simple bumping into each other, apparently. "Come on guys, we've got to stick together," she coaxed.

"If I sweat any more, I don't think sticking together will be a problem," Sokka complained. He wasn't having much luck pulling away from Toph, it was true. Toph straight-armed him away, and he fell onto the hot sand. Katara almost told her to be less rough, but Toph's next words were "Katara, can I have some water ?" in a small and plaintive tone.

It wasn't right, for Toph to sound like that. "Okay, but we've got to try to conserve it," she explained. She bent a small globe of water out of her waterskin. With longing that she quickly hid, she divided the water into three parts rather than four. She could wait a little longer to drink. They needed the water more than she did.

Not that they appreciated her efforts much, complaining about the taste as they did, but at least they'd be able to keep going a while longer. At least, that was what she thought until Sokka pulled his stunt with the cactus and ended up hallucinating out of his mind. With a sigh, she dealt with the new problem just like she dealt with every other problem for now. She made them all keep moving.

Near sunset, Aang finally returned. He dropped to his knees in the sand in apparent exhaustion. This was obviously the worst day of his life, and she had no comfort to offer. "I'm sorry, Aang," she said. "I know it's hard for you right now, but we need to focus on getting out of here."

He was giving up already, claiming that they wouldn't survive without Appa. Toph shared his pessimism, with the vivid addition of her "trapped in a bowl of sand pudding" comment. Sokka was too out of it to be any help, but he did bring their attention to one more problem – the buzzard-wasps already circling above them. Katara stared for a moment at the buzzard-wasps, then at their tired-out team. She knew how they felt. She wished Mom was here, or Dad, or anybody. "Ugh…" she commented at herself. That kind of thinking led nowhere. This was exactly like after Mom died, and she couldn't afford to fall apart now any more than she could then. Despair would not be allowed to kill her friends – she would see to that. She knew how to be the counterweight to inertia. "We're getting out of this desert, and we're going to do it together! Aang, get up. Everybody, hold hands. We can do this. We have to."

As rallying speeches went, it lacked a lot, but they did start walking again. One foot after another, one task after the next, even when it hurt, even when it seemed pointless. The shadows of the evening brought a sudden chill into the air – a little better than the heat, at any rate. She had to keep them from stopping. She would. What was it Gran-Gran said, when they'd first set off to rescue Aang? "You have a long journey ahead of you. It's been so long since I've had hope. But you brought it back to life, my little waterbender." She found herself smiling at the memory, and her dry lips cracked, but she just licked the blood away absently. _Oh, Gran-Gran, it _has_ been quite a long journey. _ She could bring hope back to life again now. She had to.

Irrelevantly, she also remembered that Sokka had said, "We're going to save your boyfriend." Sokka, who had brought her a canoe even though they both knew it wouldn't be fast enough, because they had to try. He knew about hope, too, even if his jokes were not nearly as funny as he thought. She liked Aang a lot from the first, but she'd barely known him then. Now… well, now wasn't a good time, even if Aang wasn't so bent on showing the less-nice sides of his personality at the moment.

Appa's loss had gutted him, she could see that. Under the circumstances, his behavior wasn't surprising – it still hurt, but she could understand why. Aang had kept going after waking up a hundred years in the future, everyone and everything he knew gone. Aang knew hope, and she – she liked him, maybe a little more than she should. Even though nothing could happen between them, maybe she hadn't given up on the idea as thoroughly as she'd thought. Anyway, he only saw her as a friend (as the incident in the cave showed) and whatever else, being friends was the best thing about knowing him. She would do whatever it took to help him get through this bad period, and they'd find Appa. They had to.

Did Toph know about hope? She must, growing up in a family where no one wanted to know who she was. To become this amazing person must have taken a lot of strength, and a lot of belief that things could be different. Toph would realize soon that no one could have done more, Katara would make sure of that. Then Toph would get back to being her annoying but confident self.

They'd get out of the desert together. They could do it.

They walked for hours; Katara tried to keep them going for as long as possible during the coolness of nighttime, but eventually, they couldn't go on without rest. She shared out the last of the water (pulling it back out of the sand after Momo pounced on the water globe and spilled it), got the scrolls away from a suddenly-paranoid Sokka, and found a star map. It would give them a way to navigate at night, at least. A thought occurred to her. "Aang, what happened with using the connection-sense to find Appa?"

He explained sullenly.

"I'm sure it's only because of the sand. That means, once we're out of the desert, you'll be able to sense him much more clearly," she comforted him. "In the meanwhile, see if there's anything near us that isn't sand – like water, or people."

"I can hardly see ten feet around me," he complained, but did as he was told. "Uh, I think there may be some groundwater far, far below us. It'd take some serious earthbending to get to it – and how would we keep sand from falling into the hole?"

"We'll keep that in reserve, then, for if we really need water. Let's sleep now."


	20. Planning on the Fly

**A/N: **Thanks to Somariel for pointing out that it wasn't clear that Zuko didn't give the stone back to Mai – now fixed.

**A/N2:** I'll be away from tomorrow until Sun. the 17th at the earliest, maybe a day or so more. I apologize in advance about the fact that the next chapter will be delayed, especially since it seems that a lot of people miss Blue, and he is coming back next chapter.

**Chapter 20**

The boat was a large one, capable of carrying perhaps three dozen people at once. The sails were made from dark cloth. In the night, it would be nearly invisible. Zuko waited in the gathering darkness for the rest of those who would be making the run tonight – people from the Full Moon Bay refugee center, a few hours' walk to the south. They had to leave the ostrich-horse behind – Ba Sing Se accepted no animals, apparently. Zuko wondered what they would do if they had to make their way back to the Fire Nation – given that stealing was no longer an option and they had no money – but there wasn't exactly much to be done about that. They didn't have the money to stable and feed the animal, either. Instead, they'd given the ostrich-horse to Anguo and Yun-Min, to sell when they could and use the money for White Lotus Society purposes. In return, they received more than a few things to help them on their journey. Zuko still hadn't been able to get Uncle to explain exactly what this secret society did, but he could see that they had a powerful network, didn't seem fazed at the true identities of their two guests, and were as heavily involved in fighting corruption in the Earth Kingdom as in fighting the Fire Nation.

Finally, a small group of people appeared on the road, led by four other members of the society. Zuko had to stifle an exclamation.

"What is it?" Uncle asked in a low tone.

"I've seen that old woman with three children before," he whispered back. "She's made it all the way from the western coast to here? That's – nothing short of amazing." He looked more closely. "I don't see her former companions with her, though. Was she the only one without a passport?"

"Well, introduce me to your friend," Uncle whispered back with a broad smile. "I would be honored to know her."

"I've only heard the others call her 'grandma.' She doesn't know she's met me before, and we should keep it that way."

Uncle raised an eyebrow, but the refugee group was now close enough that they stopped talking. The boat would be filled to near-capacity, especially since they were told to stay below deck, both to avoid unfriendly eyes and because the winds on the lake could get very cold. Anguo did ask for anyone who felt able to help with the boat and with keeping watch on the deck. The four other members of the society needed to sleep as much as they could, so as to be ready to crew the boat on the way back. They also could not afford to be spotted by either the Fire Nation or the Earth Kingdom vessels.

Zuko immediately volunteered, amongst several others. It gave him the perfect excuse not to be too close to the grandmother and her family. She looked at him curiously before herding her grandchildren down the ladder, but it only seemed to be a reaction to the scar. The little boy walked now – with an awkward gait that suggested permanent damage from the burns. With some shame, Zuko remembered thinking that all wars had casualties and therefore this one didn't matter. Now, however, it occurred to him that throwing a fireball anywhere near such a small child went into malicious negligence territory, at best. Not a glorious victory for the Fire Nation. The child was so young, he might never remember a time when he'd been able to run normally. Katara had been right – he kept glossing over things which should not be glossed.

The first two hours were peaceful – unusually so, according to Yun-Min. All they spotted was just one Earth Kingdom patrol boat. They huddled up inside a curve of the Serpent's Pass walls as it passed by. While they hid, Zuko sat on the deck with his back against the mast. Uncle was doing something with a length of rope nearby – Zuko suspected him of making toys for the children, though the tangle in his hands didn't resemble anything so far. A more fun task than trying to come up with a plan, as he'd been doing for hours already, but a less essential one.

Why had he been so sure he'd come up with something? Most of his plans had relied on local exploitable weaknesses. See a cart going into the fortress, with a security check that relied on the pace of a walking guard – hitch a ride on it and outpace the guard. What could he do, however, when Uncle didn't want him to come near enough to the drill to be able to _get_ that kind of information? Even if Uncle was right and they could let the Earth Kingdom troops handle it – which Zuko still doubted – what, was he supposed to just quietly sit out the war, with all he knew and the responsibilities he carried? That would be utterly dishonorable. It all came down to this: he needed to talk to his father, but his father didn't want to talk to him. He had no way to even send a message, now. There were Fire Nation outposts all around, ships patrolling just on the other side of the Serpent's Pass, and, of course, Azula's encampment, but no way for him to make use of that.

If not for the fact that Dad wouldn't listen to such a complete failure, Zuko would be tempted to deliver Uncle to the safety of Ba Sing Se, and then give himself up. It would get him back to the Fire Nation, at least; it just didn't give enough of a guarantee that he'd get to talk to his father in that scenario. Azula might, out of anger at what he'd done to her ship, even talk their father into throwing Zuko in jail somewhere for a while, until it was too late.

Azula. Something glimmered at the back of his mind. Azula was competitive, and an amazing firebender. What would happen if she learned of these suspicions – that Dad might launch an attack so devastating that it could end the war? He had no proof, no real arguments to convince her of the possibility, but so long as it was a possibility… Their father listened to Azula, sometimes. Odd, to be making an attempt to prevent deaths by ensuring that the war would stretch longer. This would itself cause more deaths. Perhaps, however, during the time of arguing, Dad might be convinced of other things, too. Zuko hesitated, not quite willing to think on how difficult it was to convince his father of anything, but aware that it probably wouldn't work.

Wait. Azula's personality _was_ his bit of local knowledge. Hiding from her troops would not be a problem if he had no need to hide. Enlisting Azula's help would: get him the possibility of communicating with his father, serve as a delaying tactic on any kind of plan in place, distract her from pursuing Uncle, and give him an ideal opportunity to study the drill and its defenses up close. He'd be well-placed to sabotage something, too; he felt a bit guilty thinking it, but it would be in the best interests of the Fire Nation, in the end. All he had to do was go hat-in-hand to Azula, in such a way that she would see him as an amusement rather than a threat.

He had to fold his arms over his knees and put his head down on them for long moments while he took deep breaths. It wouldn't be so bad. Azula always stopped eventually, because he was her brother, and she loved him in her way. Compared to the greater good… well. Sacrifices did have to be made. So he'd be giving in after years of resisting her attempts to make him her servant. So she'd needle and prod at every sensitive spot, and he'd be unable to protect himself without losing her favor. He could take it. Dad wouldn't listen to him, but he'd listen to Azula, and Azula wouldn't want her chance for glory taken away.

Just the thought of it made him hurt. He could take it, though.

Uncle's warm hand came to rest on his back. "Zuko, what's wrong?"

He blinked hard a few times and straightened up. "Something's right, actually. I just came up with a workable plan."

Uncle did not agree that it was a good plan, but then, when had he ever? The only reason he didn't yell at Zuko was because there were a number of other people in the vicinity. The noise of the wind and waves made it possible to talk in low tones, though, and Zuko brushed aside his uncle's unfounded worries. "I know Azula. It'll work."

"Only if she does not imprison you, or worse, the moment she sees you!" Uncle hissed.

"I know her. I know how to avoid that."

Uncle looked as irate as Zuko had ever seen him. "How?"

"It's hard to explain – it relies so much on subtle cues." Actually, it just relied on making himself more fun as a verbal target than as a prisoner, but it wasn't a complete lie – he'd have to watch how he spoke and acted very carefully.

"Zuko, for once, even you don't like this plan. Why take such risks, for so little chance of success?"

"Because I can do it with a _good_ chance of success. You should stop treating me like a child, Uncle. Didn't you say once that I had learned to handle myself in situations that some adults couldn't? I'm not being blind, here. I know the level of danger better than you do."

"Please, my nephew, think a moment. Azula is dangerous, and for three years you have not seen each other. In that time, she may have changed – I believe that she has changed. I don't believe that, for instance, three years ago she would have injured me."

"Yes, she would have, if she could have gotten away with it then the way she can now." He bit his tongue, but the words were already out.

Uncle appraised him with an expression that Zuko couldn't quite make out in the moonlight, but before they could argue some more, the boat started moving again. Anguo relit the lantern and called out to all of them, "Watch the water itself, now. We're about to get into the Serpent's territory. We fed it just four days ago, so it shouldn't bother us, but it can damage our boat without meaning to, if it comes too close. What we do if it approaches us any closer than six boat lengths is throw handfuls of rice mixed with wood shavings –" he gestured at sacks set out around the periphery of the boat. Zuko had been wondering about them. "– into the water. The Serpent hates when something small gets under its scales, so when it sees the rice falling, it knows to leave us alone, but we have to be quick. Watch for ripples on the water, or a giant fin. Stay close to a sack, and if you see anything, yell 'Serpent!'"

It wasn't a ripple or a fin – the Serpent's shriek itself warned them where to look, and after a time, they could see the whole impossibly long body glint far away. The creature seemed to be looping around itself in the water. "Something seems to have upset it, but stay calm," Anguo advised. "It may let us by."

The Serpent shrieked several times in close succession. "Not tonight," Anguo sighed. "We'll wait an hour to see if it calms down."

"No, turn for the cliffs! It's heading for us!" Yun-Min called.

Anguo turned the tiller rapidly. Yun-Min gave instructions. "Get ready with the rice. I'll tell you when to start – it has to get close enough or the rice will sink uselessly."

Her tone of calm authority did much to restore order on the deck, but in a few minutes more, when it got close enough for them to see its true size, several of them spotted the hitch in the plan. "Look!" somebody screamed. "Is it going to care about rice with _that_ hanging around its neck?"

_That_ was a tangled mess of rope and splintered wood. The serpent's thrashing now revealed itself as an attempt to get the lot off, without success.

"The rice is still our best chance; if it doesn't work, we'll evacuate the boat and drive it off with earthbending," Yun-Min said. "Is that – sweet mother, that's the bridge! The Fire Nation must have burned it down and dropped it right on top of the Serpent! No wonder it's so angry!"

The screams became nearly deafening as it approached. "Now!" Yun made herself heard over the noise.

The rice sussurated down into the water, then spread like fog. The Serpent twitched away from it – for the moment, it didn't seem inclined to approach closer. Yet it continued shrieking and swimming in loops nearby. Obviously, it would attack again. As the rice and wood shavings sank, the Serpent swam closer, and they added more from the sacks to keep it away. How long could they do this? The amount of rice had been meant for a friendlier Serpent.

Anguo dropped the anchor and came to stand beside his wife. "Anyone else here know earthbending besides us two old folks?"

Two people came forward. "If you have a bow, I can shoot it," another volunteered.

"No, and we don't want to kill it – its presence is what normally allows us to make this run safely while all others stay away," Yun-Min explained.

"Uncle," Zuko whispered, "if it is as afraid of fire as most creatures…"

"Yes, we have to help, but wait for –"

Yun-Min passed by them. In a low voice, she said, "Don't. Fire makes it angrier."

His fists clenched against the feeling of helplessness. She went below deck to explain the situation and ask about earthbenders there, but there seemed to be nobody, aside from one of the Society members. The Serpent's scales looked tough and slimy, but it had to have weaknesses. The eyes, definitely. Maybe those crests at the side of the head. The whiskers might be as sensitive as the ones of the cat-gator. A blow to the right spot might frighten it without killing it. He made sure that his swords would slide easily from the scabbard.

"Zuko, if there isn't enough time to evacuate everyone –"

"Don't talk like that, Uncle. We will be fine. Both of us. Everybody here." Working together, the five earthbenders made a large stone platform then began to lift the youngest children, plus one elder to keep them together, to the top of the cliff. The platform moved upwards slowly and carefully.

Uncle shook his head and went to add more rice to a particularly bare spot.

It occurred to Zuko that monsters like these were often at least partly spirits. He knew a friendly spirit – Uncle even said that some sense of presence lingered. He shut his eyes tightly and concentrated. _Blue Spirit, if you're listening, we need a way to get safely past this Serpent. Can I pacify it? Drive it away? I'll repay you in any way that I can, if you help us now._

An image of the Blue Spirit mask floated into his mind – Zuko had the feeling that the grin was particularly at his expense. That faded quickly, though, and Zuko suddenly remembered the Avatar in the swamp as he rubbed his forearms and seemed to shrink back into himself. It made no sense as a clue. That was when they'd been discussing using the connection-sense for the first time, wasn't it?

At last he found it – he'd compared the swamp to an injured animal then, yes? Here was an injured animal. _You mean that if I get that tangle off it, it will leave us alone? How can I get close to it without getting eaten?_

A quick flash of himself, down with fever – Uncle's hand on his forehead, checking his temperature – Uncle would always tell him to rest, in such a situation.

_Make it sleep? I don't have anything like that! Or do you mean to give it a fever – Yun-Min said that was too dangerous! I get that you can't talk clearly yet – I'm working on that – but do you really need to be so maddening?_

Now he saw Uncle in his mind's eye, shaking his head sadly as if to say "No patience." (Zuko resisted the urge to check whether real-Uncle was doing the same.) A flash of the hand on his forehead again. The horrible moment on the raft in the storm when the rope went slack in his hands flashed through his mind next, and how hard it had been to swim towards Uncle. The water had churned around him, dark and foamy, but – had a blue tinge, also. Was that… _You helped me then? Thank you! _He couldn't find words enough for his gratitude, but he also thought at the Blue Spirit that he did still need help again, and this time, he remembered again Uncle's proverb on "Half of teaching lies in learning."

Last time, that had meant he needed to talk to Uncle. Zuko went with a hunch that he was remembering all these things for a reason. "Uncle, was there anything, uh, Spirit-Worldly that you remember happening, when the raft broke in that storm?"

"You want to know that now?" Uncle blinked, but quickly realized that Zuko must have a reason for asking. "I did see what looked like a bit of a spiritual glow around you, especially your hands. I thought it might be the Ocean Spirit."

"Because it was blue colored?"

"Yes."

Zuko helped close the newest few gaps in their defenses, then concentrated again. A glow around his hands, specifically – Uncle's hand on his forehead – the angry Serpent – okay. _Let me know if I understood you. If I manage to touch the Serpent's forehead, you will manifest to calm it down, and then I can free it, and we can all be safe. Yes or no?_

He saw the mask again. _I ask you yes or no, and you respond by smiling. You're a bit late to the party on irritating me that way – Uncle got there years before you._

Firebending practice about to start. _Yes, I'm ready._ He opened his eyes. "Uncle, I've got a plan!"

"Is it as dangerous and hastily-thought-out as usual?" Uncle snapped.

"Okay, you don't believe me, and – okay, this will not sound like a reason to believe me – but I've been able to communicate with a spirit just now. It'll help me deal with the Serpent."

"Spirit? Those are far too often tricksters!" Uncle looked half-wild, with his hair all blown about by the wind and his face red with exertion. He ought to have gone on the platforms by now, with the rest of the elderly, but it would do no good to point that out.

"This one's not. Now, it will look dangerous, but won't actually be. I'm only spending time telling you so that you don't get too anxious about me."

"This is your idea of getting me not to feel anxious?" Uncle's latest throw sprayed out into the water as if propelled by a catapult.

"Yeah, I knew you'd say that, but you'd feel worse if I didn't tell you in advance. Anyway, I just need to get to its head. Then everything will be fine."

"The head is filled with sharp teeth, if you haven't noticed!"

"I don't plan on touching those. Uncle, we don't have time. Just trust me for once, would you?"

"It's not that I don't trust you…"

"It's getting ready to attack!" Yun-Min called. The monster, still circling near them, now began to rear out of the water at intervals. Over half of the people had been evacuated by now, and the platforms descended quickly for the next load, but the sacks were getting close to empty. The Serpent must see that. Zuko dodged his uncle's restraining hand and ran to her.

"These platforms – can you send people sideways as well as up? I need to jump onto the Serpent's head, and it's too far unassisted."

"You what? A sacrifice won't help!"

"No, no, I have a plan. Freeing it of the bridge will make it go away."

"Unless it eats you first. You're a nice boy, but –"

"Will somebody remember for once that I'm not a child? I have a way to calm it. Will you help me, or do I have to swim for it? I'd do that, but it's far riskier."

She gave him a steady look, which he returned. "Well. Good luck, and stay out of the range of its jaws." She detached a small disk of stone from the cliffside and held it steady as he jumped onto it. "Ready… Now." The surface bucked under his feet, going up into a shallow arc. Yun-Min had calculated well – it passed very close behind the Serpent's head, so all he had to do was push off and he was somersaulting through the air. He fought the instinct to tuck his arms in, reached out and snagged the ear frills (which proved to be hard as bone and very slick), smacked into the back of the monster's head, and slapped one hand over its forehead before it could try to buck him off.

A blue glow leaked out from where skin touched scales. With a wrenching sensation, Zuko experienced something talking through him, in words and images that passed too quickly for him to understand them himself, but he got the overall sense of "help's here, so don't eat it."

The glow faded. The monster surfaced in such a way that all the worst of the tangle stayed above water. It kept tossing restlessly, but not so badly that Zuko couldn't hang on, and it wasn't screaming anymore. _Thanks! Just could you maybe warn me about what exactly would happen? In case it's not blindingly obvious yet, I'm not fond of sudden strange spiritual happenings. _No answer, but there was still a sense of presence. Very cautiously, he crawled down the slime-slick torso. Fortunately, most of the mess was caught on the back fin, and once he hacked free a length of rope, he knotted the ends together and looped it around the spines of the fin to give himself something to hang on to. With careful slices of his swords, he freed the Serpent of its unwanted burden. The dark lines between massive scale plates proved to be thin, barely armored skin – for greater flexibility, probably, like the insides of a komodo-rhino's joints. Inside those lines, he could see scrapes and gashes. He cleaned out any splinters and, based on a mental nudge, spread more of that slime over the wounds, since he didn't know how one would bandage a giant serpent, even if he had bandages enough to spare.

Finally, he was done. The Serpent turned and swam away from the boat; Zuko jumped off into the water before it could carry him away with it. The earthbenders began to lower the people back down onto the boat as he swam – in short order, he was being pulled up onto the deck. People crowded around him, thanking him, demanding explanations… "Give him room!" Uncle's voice cut through the noise. "He'll freeze to death in those wet clothes! Questions later!"

"I'm fine, Uncle," he groaned in embarrassment. "Though I wouldn't mind getting out of these." The slime still caked his clothes despite his swim.

"So you shall," Uncle declared. "Let's get below deck."

They hung up a blanket for him so that he could scrub off, dress in his borrowed clothes, and rustproof his swords in relative privacy. When he reemerged, so did the questions. Zuko, who had used the time to think, told them nearly the truth – that a spirit had suggested to him a way to help the serpent in return for their safety, and he had agreed. He didn't mention the name of the spirit, however (and did nothing to deny the speculation that it might have been the spirit of the lake, using Zuko to help its most famous inhabitant). When asked how he was able to communicate with spirits at all, he said, "Well, my uncle is a very spiritual person – he might have been a sage, under different circumstances – and he has been trying to teach me how to be more spiritual. I've never been a good student, I'm afraid, but my uncle is a good teacher – some of it must have gotten through to me regardless."

And that settled the matter – Uncle looked like someone who could have been a sage, and it was obvious to anyone why the spirit would have picked the less-spiritual but (seemingly) more-athletic person to carry out this task. Of course, the one person who didn't buy it was Uncle himself.

Two or three hours remained to their journey, depending on whether they encountered any more patrols. They did some planning; the usual cover story was that the refugees had come across the Serpent's Pass on foot, but if the gate guards knew about the bridge already, it wouldn't sound very plausible. Thus, the stronger people in the group would claim to have swum across the gap, while the weaker ones would claim to have arrived from the northeastern side of the lake, from the recently-conquered villages. Those who could settled back to sleep; Zuko, who had an argument to finish, wandered out to the most private spot they could find above-deck.

Uncle found his bit of tangled rope again and avoided responding to Zuko's points. Instead, he said, as if casually, "I was not aware that a few of my comments on the nature of the Spirit World constituted such a good education in attracting the attention of spirits."

"Well…" he began uncomfortably.

"Even if that were the case, I do wonder why you should have been encountering spirits quite so often. Tonight, on the raft, and some third time between those two events – maybe more than that? It's not normal, Zuko, and it's not safe. The Spirit World intersects ours in a number of ways, yes, but those tend to be limited. Spirits of place would not follow you about, while spirits of ancestors do not talk to us directly. I admit, it seems to have been a helpful spirit so far, but you really aren't the most spiritually enlightened of people, so what does it want with you?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I tried asking that question, but got the sense that he couldn't answer me clearly for now. He's even more fond of cryptic communication than you are, which, you can imagine, has been frustrating."

"A spirit trying to be cryptic with you? I pity it. But you said 'he' – do you know that?"

"I know who he is. The Blue Spirit."

Uncle looked up sharply. "Ah, so? That's very interesting, and much becomes clear."

A bit too late, Zuko wondered if Uncle was about to figure out that he hadn't just been communicating with the Blue Spirit, but also being a version of the Blue Spirit from time to time. However, Uncle's next words proved that he'd taken a different direction. "It's probably part of your destiny, then, and spirits do sometimes involve themselves in destinies. This particular spirit has been active in the world again, of late; he has involved himself in the Avatar's destiny, too." Zuko flinched a bit; fortunately, he had the good excuse of disliking the Avatar's destiny. "Before, he was known as a generally benevolent spirit, although selectively helpful – I can see why you feel able to trust him. Nonetheless, be careful." He began to unpick one of the knots.

"I am."

Uncle still didn't look happy as he leaned back against the railing of the boat. "Why haven't you told me before of your spiritual dealings? How long has this been going on?"

"I've only become aware that it wasn't my imagination very recently," he defended himself. "And I've had a lot of other things on my mind. Tonight was pretty much the first time I had something resembling an actual conversation with the Blue Spirit."

Uncle's expression softened. "I understand. You must find this even more confusing than I do – you have always been such a straightforward thinker. How long have you been wondering if it was your imagination?"

"About three years."

"Ah. The Agni Kai. Yes, I see," Uncle said in a soft, very flat tone.

He looked away. "No, not then. Later."

"That you first became aware of it, anyway. Then I am glad you have such a protector."

Zuko thought that Uncle had drawn the wrong conclusion, but how could he be sure? After all, perhaps buying the mask wasn't an accident, no matter if that was when he first felt something. He wasn't too spiritual, it was true.

When Yun-Min had come out of the meeting-room yesterday, she proved to be a very interesting person to talk to. The memory of her voice threaded through his mind at an odd pace. "You're not wrong, but neither are you entirely right. The 'silly games' do serve a purpose. People engaged in this work, by turns deadly and monotonous, may feel the longing to inject some excitement into what they do, and a way to give each other the respect that no one else will. The method isn't the obvious one, but it serves them." He blinked. _Blue Spirit? Are you still here?_

There was a phantom pat on the head. Zuko ran a hand through his hair in great irritation. _Okay, I owe you, but surely not to the extent of letting you treat me like a child, too! _

There was a definite impression of unmoveable solidity. _Really? You…_

A picture of himself wrecking the boats on Azula's ship, then Uncle and Yun-Min in conversation. _Oh, you were telling me how I could get _him_ to stop treating me like a child. I do appreciate it, but maybe a warning next time you suddenly appear?_

An image of Sokka complaining that he overdid his dramatic entrances flashed up and dissolved slowly. The sensation of presence faded with it. Zuko contemplated the futility of mentally yelling a comeback to someone no longer there.

The whole mental exchange had only taken a few seconds, but Zuko fumbled a bit to remember the last thing that Uncle had said. Ah, a protector. "I'm not so incapable of doing things on my own as you imagine, Uncle."

"I never said you were incapable," Uncle protested. "Only that you often put yourself into situations beyond anyone's capability."

"I'm here, aren't I? Not without help, I know, but I'm here. We got away from Azula once, and I still think I should investigate the drill."

Uncle looked dubious. "Are you intending to tell me that the Blue Spirit wants you to go there?"

Zuko bit back an angry retort. "Nothing of the kind. This is me talking to you, Uncle. Just me. I don't think he's opposed, but I'm not in the habit of letting anyone dictate to me, so I don't particularly care what he thinks." Where was Yun-Min? There, adjusting a sail. The moment she turned, he waved to her to come over.

"I'm sorry. This is a rather new and unexpected development; I shouldn't have accused you of making things up for your own benefit." Zuko gave a nod to accept the apology. Uncle thought for long moments as he worked at the rope some more, then spoke again. "It does change things a little to know that you wouldn't be going entirely alone, and yet, I am still not sure that this is the right path for you to take."

"I know, but I need to choose my own path. I'll be careful." Yun-Min came over, and he enlisted her help to convince Uncle.

She shook her head and stared out at the dark water with a faraway look. "You do not know how much you ask," she told him, and there was a startling hint of old pain in her voice. _What don't I know?_ he wanted to ask, but she turned to Uncle. "However, what do you hope to achieve with your refusal? We do need the information, and your nephew has a way open to him that no one else does. He has answered your objections, and you have nothing left to say but that you do not like the odds."

"This is not a plan with much opportunity to get out if things go bad," Uncle said severely. Yet he was weakening, Zuko was sure.

"More than you think," he asserted. "Even if Azula does imprison me – which she won't – that's not the end."

Yun-Min looked out over the water again and said, "You want perfect assurance? That is not what I expected from you. I have given birth to four children, yet our house has only the two of us, except for rare visits. We took no exceptional risks. Not until the past few years. Now, however, we live again."

Uncle lowered his eyes. Zuko had thought he understood her argument, yet he wouldn't have expected it to hit so accurately, while Yun-Min obviously had. Zuko knew how to build on it, though. Between the two of them, Uncle would be convinced at last.

* * *

><p>When Toph banged her foot against a piece of wood sticking out of the sand, Katara never dreamed that it would be so serendipitous. The wood turned out to be part of a sandbender boat – a fully functional one, with a compass and everything. Relief washed through her sweetly. Their troubles were nearly over, she was sure.<p>

Except not. The compass led them to a rock warren filled with angry buzzard wasps. As soon as they got rid of those, angry sandbenders showed up to accuse them of stealing the boat. Then Toph revealed that one of those sandbenders, the one named Gashuin, had been the one to steal Appa – she remembered his voice. Then she added that Gashuin had said to put a muzzle on Appa.

Aang was already frightening to behold – sweeping his staff in short, destructive arcs – and the man began to babble apologies – when it got worse. His tattoos started to glow again. "Tell me where Appa is!" he demanded, and it wasn't his voice – it was a layered, echoing, harsh sound.

"I traded him! To some merchants! He's probably in Ba Sing Se by now," Gashuin pleaded. "They were going to sell him there. Please! We'll escort you out of the desert! We'll help however we can!"

The wind picked up, tugging at her clothes. A tornado began to form around Aang, sweeping up sand into the air. In moments, it would start sweeping up more than sand.

"Just get out of here! Run!" Sokka yelled. The sandbenders followed his advice and Sokka got Toph away, but Katara felt rooted to the ground. It wasn't Aang, and yet it was. Hurting so much that he lost himself – she could understand that. He wouldn't realize he hurt them until too late, so she should get out of there – but she couldn't leave him behind like this.

The person inside of whom her dear friend was lost began to rise into the air – literally beyond reach. No. They'd get out of this together. She fought her way through the tornado, blinking back the sand that stung her face and tried to get into her eyes. Aang. She couldn't stop caring about him; she couldn't stop wanting him to let _her_ be the one he turned to. _Katara, you picked a really bad time to be having this revelation._ She grabbed his wrist, and the creature that looked back didn't recognize her. She knew it hated her and would crush her without thought, because right now, it hated everybody. It couldn't have Aang. When it left, he'd have to pick up the pieces, and he wouldn't be able to live with himself. She didn't let go.

A few moments later, she could feel the strain of holding on lessen as he began to sink towards the ground. Maybe it was so it could crush her more easily, but she only took his shoulders in her hands and drew him into a hug. The wind whipped around them still, as if trying to separate them. Suddenly, she felt moisture seep into the cloth at her shoulder – he was still glowing, but weeping, too. In this dry desert, the water felt doubly like a blessing, and she knew he'd be all right eventually. The wind stopped, and it was just Aang she held. She hugged him tighter.

Only later, as they rode for the edge of the desert as the honored guests of the sandbenders, did she start thinking things through a bit. She'd just walked through a tornado for Aang – she'd have done the same for others, but… not with quite the same feelings. He still didn't feel like that about her, though – he hated even the thought of kissing her. Could he even feel like that about anyone, what with the "no attachments" thing the Air Nomads had? He still didn't want to be a father – although after seeing how he was about any of them being in danger, she wondered if he might change his mind. She liked him so much, but he was the Avatar – he wasn't just her friend. He had all those other things inside him, all those other responsibilities. Blue's sarcastic remark about the "more than a full-time job" stung. She wanted more than to just be good old reliable Katara, but she didn't know how to be anything else.

For a little while, she could let go of all the responsibility, as the sandbenders took care of them. The edge of the desert was surprisingly close, and the unassuming sand-colored tents proved to be good shelter from the sun, bright with color inside, and filled with hospitable folk. However, she knew her role in the team, and it only took a meal for Aang to get restless. "We have to find Appa."

"Of course we do," she reassured him. "Now that we're out of the desert, you'll be able to use your connection-sense much better. Try it now, in fact!"

They went outside and he did so, with a visible ribbon of light, but suddenly it winked out. Aang fell back onto the scrubby rock with a look of devastation. "I had it for a moment, I had it – and then I lost him again!"

She hugged him quickly. "Calm down. Appa's okay. You know what I think? I think that you can't sense Appa when he's in the air. You're tracking him along the ground, after all!"

He took deep, shuddering breaths, which gradually subsided. "You're probably right. But how can we follow him if we don't know when he's on the ground to look?"

"Well, he was sold to those traders, right? They can't fly. Try to find them."

It got more complicated than that, since they had to get Gashuin involved in order to find the traders through him, but in the end, it worked. "Katara, you're a genius! I got a lot further with trying to track them, though I still couldn't get a picture of where they were. But I know the direction!"

With the sandbenders' help, it didn't take them long to catch up to the traders, but another disappointment waited there. The traders had found Appa too much to handle. They'd sold him to a Fire Nation circus.

"Where's the circus?" Sokka demanded. He was really getting to do the "powerfully threatening" voice well. One of the traders pulled out a piece of paper and offered it with a slightly trembling hand. It was a colorful advertisement, listing the dates and locations of the circus.

After a comparison of the advertisement and his maps, Sokka grinned widely. "Aha! If they haven't fallen behind schedule, then they've just crossed over the lake, and they're now near Ba Sing Se! We can catch up to them and then warn the Earth King, easy!"

They moved out quickly, but after their dessicating desert trek, none of them could resist the allure of the beautiful lakes they encountered on the way. They stopped to bathe, wash their clothes, and splash about. Katara loved every moment of diving in and letting the water surround her, and loved being able to move her hands and have her element respond to her so abundantly. She might have felt guilty for taking a little more time than absolutely necessary, but nobody else wanted to leave quickly, either, and in the end, it proved to be a good thing. That was how they met a small family of refugees who told them that instead of taking the deadly Serpent's Pass route, they could just ride the ferry to Ba Sing Se.

* * *

><p>Zuko crept cautiously through the mountains. Uncle had remained at an abandoned barn with much sighing and headshaking, but Zuko knew one thing – Azula must not know that Uncle was anywhere in the vicinity. According to their directions, the heavily-patrolled zone was just up ahead – once he crossed the crest, the valley would be filled with Fire Nation soldiers. Zuko remembered his maps and knew that this particular valley surrounded a double ridge of mountains, with another valley inside. The drill must be right at the center. Good defenses, excellent, really, but how did Azula plan to get the drill out? Could the thing go through mountains themselves? There was a thick forested region here that the local folk made good use of; no doubt, much of it had been cut down for the drill project by now, but enough should remain to help him make an inconspicuous first entrance.<p>

He paused to hide his pack on the safe side of the ridge. It contained his Blue Spirit belongings and an additional packet of the emergency supplies he would take with him. He was unlikely to need them, but if he did end up having to run, a disguise might help. The image of the blue dragon from his dream appeared in his thoughts again – circling about like the Serpent had. _What is it?_ he asked mentally, but the sense of presence was already gone. Shaking his head, Zuko promised himself that he'd make that offering a priority after this.

During these early morning hours, he practiced what he might say. He had to make himself entertaining. He had to appear to be on her side, though with reasonable reservations, and really, he was, though he could not show the full extent of those reservations. The Avatar would be his ticket in a new way – if he hinted to Azula that he knew the Avatar's hiding-place, which he would reveal in return for her help, she would let him go. Possibly under guard, but he could slip that easily enough. The hedgemole who served as his audience didn't seem particularly impressed, but no one had ever accused Azula of being anything like a hedgemole. Now he must not delay any longer. Taking deep breaths, Zuko crept through what remained of the forest and snuck his way deep inside the patrol lines. It was easier than he'd expected – the patrol patterns were familiar. Didn't Azula realize they needed to be changed from time to time? He wasn't going to be the one to tell her, anyway.

There were at least two large villages at the bottom of the valley that he could see, with any number of farmsteads outside the villages, but the only Earth Kingdom natives that he could see were the elderly and the young children. By noting which direction they scrupulously avoided, he found the entrance to the pass into the inner ring of mountains. It was too heavily guarded for him to just slip though, but he didn't need to. With judicious use of eavesdropping, he located a small patrol unit led by a low-ranking officer near a plausible entrance-point – and stepped out into the open.

"Good morning, Sergeant," he spoke in a relatively pleasant tone for now, but one which admitted no possibility of being contradicted. "I need to speak with my sister, Princess Azula. Take me to her."

The Sergeant visibly struggled. Zuko pretended not to understand his dilemma. One did not expect the prince of the Fire Nation to be wandering around in filthy Earth Kingdom clothing, or to suddenly pop up without a gaggle of guards and servants surrounding him. If this unit had seen the wanted posters, they would also be aware that the prince was now considered a criminal. They must be bewildered as to how to treat him; his own actions and tone would determine much.

"Well? What are you waiting for?"

"Y-your Highness, I…" the man seemed to have nearly swallowed his tongue.

"Is there a problem?" He breathed out a small gust of fire as a sign of his impatience.

A female soldier proved to be more level-headed than her superior. "Yes, I'm sure Princess Azula would like to speak to you. Not, ahem, without some security measures in place."

He gave her his best blank look. "Is she expecting trouble already? I came to speak with her about that, actually."

The sergeant drew the soldier aside for a hurried whisper-conference. Zuko waited with an expression of boredom on his face. Phrases like "he can't not know" and "someone else's problem" reached his hearing. Within minutes, they reached the obvious conclusion. The sergeant hurried back and jerked his body into a short bow, which balanced neatly between not antagonizing Zuko while at the same time being plausibly deniable should someone inquire why he was showing respect to a criminal. "Allow us to escort you. The roads around here are dangerous."

Zuko inclined his head, though he was tempted to ask whether the Fire Army was so frightened of little children these days. He strode alongside the sergeant and pretended not to notice how the other members of the unit kept their hands either close to weapons or ready to firebend. The woman excused herself to go on ahead and proved to be a fast talker; Zuko passed through the guarded chokepoint with very little more than an exchange of formalities.

As they emerged into the center valley, he struggled not to show his shock. When Mai had written to him about the drill, he had not imagined this. Within an enormous basin of earth, the metal carapace gleamed. Even the half of it above the earth required four levels of walkways for the workers to reach everything. The thing was massive, and overwhelming.

When he could tear his eyes away from the drill itself, his gaze was immediately drawn to the walls of the valley. An open-face quarry contained what looked like every single adult missing from the Earth Kingdom villages nearby. Heavily armored overseers ensured that no one slacked off. The iron ore they mined was refined in nearby enormous roaring furnaces. A small army of blacksmiths hammered the metal into thick plates. Cranes lifted the plates and swung them into place, where the workers on the gangways lowered them into place and welded them into the permanent structure. Large gaping holes in the earth showed where massive internal supports must have been cast by pouring.

All this he saw while they walked towards the drill, which took up the whole length of the valley and blocked their way. "We must use the walkways," the sergeant shouted over the din nervously. They climbed up and made their way around the perimeter of the drill. On the other side, in a deep curve of the mountainside which must have served as protection from the noise to some extent, several Earth Kingdom houses still stood. They'd been hastily draped with red, and a heavy guard surrounded the entrance to the largest one. Zuko walked in with a calm he didn't feel.

Inside, Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee sat around a table, while the woman from before stood at attention to the side. Mai threw him a single intense glance – probably meaning "I warned you, yet you're here?" – before returning to her usual protective blankness. Ty Lee stared at him in open curiosity, and despite seeing him for the first time since then, she didn't linger on the scar. Azula had her hands folded on the table, and a slight smile played around her features. "Well, brother. Nice to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same, but I'm sure you know I wouldn't be here if I had any choice." He had to start off harsh. That would make his eventual "fall" all the sweeter for Azula.

She shrugged with syrupy sweet unconcern. "Such lack of family feeling. You look quite wild, you know."

"No thanks to you. What in the world possessed you to attack Uncle?" He found his voice quickly skating out of his control. "Are you really insane or something? You could have killed him!"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. Where _is_ the old dear?"

"Far away from you. Recovering his health." He made sure to sound sullen.

"Oh, do tell!" she grinned. "I remember you used to have quite the interest in _healthful_ treatments. Did the reality not prove so interesting, after all?"

His hand twitched towards his own face involuntarily. "He and I had an irreconcilable difference in interests. Naturally, at his age, he was more concerned with finding safety than with anything else. But that's not how I want to live my life. Always hiding, sleeping in the dirt, eating things a sparrowkeet would refuse! I wasn't meant to live like that."

In her next few comments, she seemed far more interested in Uncle than in this outburst. Zuko felt the chill of foreboding. Her interest couldn't be good, and he hadn't rehearsed what to say here. He answered as best he could, then tried to force the issue. "Enough, Azula. You never liked Uncle, so I can't imagine why you're so solicitous of him now."

"Really. After you both left my company so hastily when I was trying to bring you home, you can't guess?"

He saw that he would have to be direct – direct, and seemingly oblivious. "You know, the reason we left was because of a curious rumor. Apparently, you were ordered to take Uncle prisoner. Now, I knew it couldn't be true – you of all people would know our uncle better than that – but this knowledge doesn't seem to have percolated down to the soldiers under your command. Normally, people who decline your hospitality are met with a wave goodbye, not a wave of attackers."

"You do hurt my feelings," she pressed one hand to her chest expressively. "Acting as if I'm stupid. You knew that Uncle betrayed our country at the North Pole. You knew why he had to be contained, for the good of our nation."

He crossed his arms in turn. "I was busy with the Avatar, at the North Pole, but I saw no betrayal. Whoever told you that lied."

"Oh, you were there?" she asked with mock surprise. "We weren't sure. Nobody saw you, after all. I thought you might have hidden yourself away for safety."

He clenched his fists and leaned forward. "You want to call me a coward again?"

"No, no," she waved her hand. "I'm very curious to know what it was – exactly – that you did."

He didn't need to act his shame much. "I got close to the Avatar – captured him and tried to get him out of the city – but then his friends found us."

"Oh, then what?" She was enjoying this. This was what he'd been trying to achieve, but it didn't make it easier to take.

"I was outnumbered and exhausted from what it took to get that far – what do you think happened? They knocked me out. By the time I regained consciousness and escaped, it was practically all over."

"Poor Zuzu," she clucked her tongue, "so close and yet so far."

"Don't call me that!"

She acted as if she hadn't heard him. "Well, by your own admission, you didn't actually see what Uncle was doing while you were flailing about so ineffectively."

Something went cold inside him at her words, but he couldn't let past failures distract him. "I've lived with him for three years. Believe me, I know every single unpleasant facet of his personality. But the one thing I could never doubt was his loyalty to our nation."

He could almost see her eyes light up. "Ah, Zuko. So naïve, to think you'd be able to tell. But you're not a traitor, are you?"

"What are you talking about?" he growled. "Of course I'm not!"

She smiled. "One can never be sure, you know."

He buried everything he actually felt at that remark, because he knew in his heart that he wasn't a traitor. "Well, if you think that, you can arrest me right now! I'll prove my loyalties to anybody!"

She laughed. "You really are dramatic." Zuko did not exhale in relief, but continued to maintain an attitude of blind anger. "Oh, calm down. You know I didn't mean anything by it."

He softened his posture a touch. "After what I've gone through, getting to you, trying to bring you important information, and you accuse me like that – you expect me to calm down?"

"You do look – mm – like you've been wallowing in the mud, lately." He glared at her. She raised both arms. "I'm just saying."

"Fine, we've established that I haven't had the easiest time of it. Now, can we get down to business?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "How silly of me. You've been standing all this time, and we don't have a chair for you. At least, not one that would survive contact with your clothes. What to do, what to do," she tapped her lower lip with one finger. "I know! Why don't you sit on the floor? You must be used to that, by now."

The soldier had stood like statue up till now, but even she twitched at such disrespect. Ty Lee slid down in her chair as if trying to hide under the table. Mai turned cautiously to address Azula, but was ignored. Well, Azula couldn't have been clearer about how she wanted him to submit. Not yet, though. Zuko breathed out a bit of flame. "I'll stand, thank you. My feet have supported me this long. Now, do you want to talk or not? The things I have to say are private."

Azula gestured the soldier out, but held up a hand when Mai and Ty Lee tried to rise. "No, no, stay. I'm sure that Zuko doesn't mind talking in front of two such old friends." Zuko winced. Somehow, he'd failed to foresee the obvious move. What would they think of him, after this? Mai might well despise him, but it was too late to back out.

The next portion of their conversation only got worse. He explained to her that he'd found her because her secret project was not as secret as she'd thought, hoping to at least shake her up a bit, but all she said was something about needing to "tighten security." (He felt queasy about the potential consequences of that.) He told her that he'd come because the army of Ba Sing Se planned both a heavy line of defense and a "secret weapon," about which he provided a few worrisome details, but she only smiled and murmured about how they could try – "It'll make things a bit more sporting, won't it, Mai?" He then tried to hint that the plans about the comet were also known, but she hinted right back that this was old news, and why was he bothering her with that? At that point, he didn't need to fake his appalled reaction.

"That doesn't bother you at all?"

For once, she didn't sound airy. Her eyes narrowed with excitement, and her tone was exultant. "Some people don't deserve to live."

"What will you do when everyone's dead and there are no more conquests to be made?"

"Oh, that won't happen. We'll beat them down into the dust, but those creatures are too stupid to know when they're beaten. Someone will always try to rebel – _and I will be there_."

So there _was_ a plan for a slaughter, even if it sounded like a relatively contained one. He'd never expected her to be so – so – beyond reach. "There's something you're not considering! I've found out recently that Mom may still be alive – and she may be in Ba Sing Se!" Mai and Ty Lee both stirred at this news, but neither dared to speak.

"Oh, is she? Well, that'll make for an interesting reunion – when I conquer Ba Sing Se, I will be sure to be ready to welcome her. Should she bother to show up." Azula sounded completely detached.

"What do you mean?" he pleaded.

"She abandoned us, Zuko," Azula flung at him. "She always cared more about herself. Only _you_ didn't understand that."

"You're wrong! How can you say such a thing?"

"Because she's a traitor, too! It's not my fault that you're completely blind on the subject. Sixteen, and still wanting your mommy – that's sad." She shook her head with grave pity.

He barely heard the insult to himself. "Azula, you can't mean that. Promise me that if she does come, you will hear her out before doing anything – rash."

"Oh sure," she nodded graciously.

"You're not being serious!"

"I'm perfectly serious, and I'm never rash. I can safely promise you that," she said with a dark satisfaction.

He stretched out his hands towards her. "Please."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why are you still whining? I promised, didn't I? Now, do you have anything of actual importance to say?"

"I thought those were pretty important things!"

"Mm, no. Anything else before you leave?"

He sat down on the floor and hung his head. "I need your help. I thought you'd appreciate having mine, but even if you don't…"

"Oh, I appreciate your little gestures, but get to the point," she spoke harshly.

"Well, it's pretty obvious, isn't it? I – can't – " he forced himself on through a dry throat, "capture the Avatar. Not like this. Even when I had a ship, I had trouble, and now… now I have nothing. I know where he is, and yet it does me no good."

"So?"

He closed his eyes. "So I'm asking you to talk to Father for me. I know – he made it clear – the Avatar is the only way. It's an impossible task without at least some support. Could you just… give him a hint? I'm not even asking for my banishment to be reversed!" He opened his eyes. "Would you…" his voice was wobbling quite outside his volition. _Would you do that for me?_ was what he should have said, but somehow, he couldn't complete the sentence.

A slow smile bloomed across her face. "Aww, Zuzu, you should have just said so from the first. I sympathize, I do." She then pulled her arms in as if anxious. "But Dad isn't going to like this."

He clenched his hands on his knees. "He likes you. He's not going to get angry if it's you asking."

"Well, you're quite right. After all, I'm not the one who's had three years to get it right and still failed. I'm also not the one who keeps bringing shame on our family. I really do hope those Earth Kingdom villagers didn't recognize you. It's bad enough everyone in the Fire Nation knows."

He had to swallow several times before he could speak. "I admit that. What more do you want?"

"Your bad manners continue to astonish me. This life really hasn't been good for you. Why else would you be so suspicious of your own sister? I've always liked you, more than you deserved, really."

He had no answer to that one.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" she exploded. He looked up. "You're completely useless! This has been an utter waste of my time," she ended in a frighteningly level tone. He flinched and she smiled. "Oh, don't worry. I'm sure you can learn – eventually. You know, maybe I _could_ suggest to Dad that we should bring you back home."

He knew she probably lied, but couldn't stop himself from leaning forward hopefully.

"Well," she amended, "we'd have to find something for you to do. Nothing too strenuous, or too important – nothing you could really mess up."

This was what he'd wanted. The plan was working perfectly. This was how he'd wanted her to think. "I would," he swallowed, "be happy to be of service in any way. It's not like I have many better options," he smiled bleakly.

"You should be grateful I'm considering this much."

This one, he had rehearsed. "I am grateful," he said lowly. It felt like there wasn't enough air in the room.

"But I'm busy now!" she ended brightly. He stared at her dumbly. She smiled again and brushed away an invisible speck of dust. "I have an invasion to plan, you know. The drill will be complete by tomorrow. We'll move on Ba Sing Se immediately. After," she said as if considering the timetable judiciously, "well, then I'd have time for trifles such as your request."

"Uh-hmm." He didn't know if this was good or bad.

"Yes, I believe that would work. Come see me there."

"I can't – stay here?" There wasn't enough time left to give warning about the drill. He had to try to sabotage it himself, even though he felt slow and stupid.

"You'd just be underfoot. Can't have that. When next you come, I do hope you'll bring Uncle with you."

His head snapped up. "What?"

"Are you starting to lose your hearing, too, and at such a young age? I'd like to see Uncle. Surely that's not unreasonable."

"You can't – Uncle – that's not –" he protested incoherently. There really wasn't a good way to say "you don't get to hurt him again, and especially not with my help!" in this situation.

"Why, Zuzu, are you being silly again? I just want to meet with our uncle. I'm his niece – I have that right."

"Even if he agreed, and he's not that stupid –" Zuko began heatedly.

"I'm sure you could persuade him. You know him so well, after all. Don't worry," she smiled brightly, "I wouldn't harm a hair on his head. I just want to catch up."

He eyed her uneasily. Surely she didn't expect him to agree. Surely not. But if she did, and that was a way to lull her suspicions…

She pouted. "You still are very naïve about who you should trust. I can see that Uncle's gotten to you. Oh, well. Go back to him. Look beyond clever words. See for yourself, just how loyal he is to the Fire Nation. And when you learn the truth – come see me again."

This had to be more of a trick. "That's it? You're so sure that – that he has betrayed us…"

"That's it. I'm sure he has filled your ears with all sorts of tales, but look closely, Prince Zuko. You know in your heart that he doesn't mean you well. He wants you to live a quiet life, away from everything and everyone you've known, and he calls it happiness." Zuko flinched. "He's probably been planning this for a long time. You know better, Zuko. Prince Zuko. You know what is worth wanting. There is still time to redeem yourself. You could make Father proud of you."

He shut his eyes in anguish. Azula always lied, but when she spoke the truth – that hurt worse.

"You're free to choose," she said simply.

He knew she meant it. She did care about him in her way. She'd let him go and make his own decisions, unlike Uncle. "I have to think," he didn't recognize his own voice. He stood up, feeling like he'd aged a hundred years during this conversation.

"Do that," she nodded. He made a brief bow of goodbye. As he turned, she said, "Oh, one more thing."

He turned back. "Yes?"

"There is one little favor you could do for me right now. It'd help me remember your plight when I'm busy with my conquest."

He couldn't imagine what she meant. "I said that I wanted to help. That hasn't changed."

"Good," she purred. "I'd like your dagger, please."

He thought he was already numb, but apparently, he wasn't. "That's pretty much the last thing of value I have left." His voice sounded even more pitiful than it needed to be.

"No, that is a problem," she agreed. "Poor Zuzu. Where _did_ all your belongings go? Have you been careless?"

"They all went in the explosion, as I'm sure you're aware!"

"Yes, I thought I heard something about that. Were you playing with knives again," her tone was oh-so-sardonic, "to save it when everything else went?"

"It's not a toy. It's protection and the occasional meal. I can't exactly firebend in the middle of the Earth Kingdom, you know!"

"Oh, is that the only reason you're so reluctant to part with it? Mai, lend Zuko one of your daggers, would you?"

"Of course, Princess Azula," Mai replied mechanically and extracted several, then bent over them as if considering which one to give away. Zuko thought he'd seen a wet sheen to her eyes before she looked down. (Who was Mai more disappointed by – him, or Azula? Him, of course.) So this was a test – whether his obfuscating stupidity was real enough. His hesitation would be seen as natural enough, but an outright refusal would expose him. He pulled the dagger out. Uncle had given it to him, not Azula – and that was why she wanted it. His throat and chest hurt, but he approached Azula carefully and dropped it into her hands. Her fingers closed around it. When he looked up, he saw her watching him avidly, and he hardened his expression as he stepped away.

Azula looked even more pleased. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. Silently, he moved over to Mai. She handed him a dagger very similar in size and shape – she knew he had trouble switching to different weapons. For a moment, both their hands rested on the small weapon, quite close together. The plain leather sheath was still warm from being strapped to her arm. He couldn't compromise Azula's trust in Mai. With only a nod of thanks, he took the dagger.

Azula nodded in satisfaction. "Goodbye, brother, till we meet again. I hope that it is very soon." Turning to her left, she said, "Ty Lee, would you be so kind as to escort my brother? I know you will be able to guide him out of this troubled region safely."

Ty Lee would, no doubt, be asked to report on anything he did. On principle, he protested, "You don't need to bother."

"A prince needs an escort, or have you forgotten that? I really hope we can settle all this soon. You desperately need your memory refreshed."

He sighed audibly. "I suppose."

With a few more pleasantries of that kind, they parted. Zuko noted that, besides Ty Lee, the unit who escorted him in also followed behind. If asked, they would no doubt say that they were simply returning to their posts.

So he'd be getting out of this place soon. Uncle would be happy. Right now, however, Zuko couldn't be. He felt drained, and like a complete and utter failure. He hadn't convinced Azula of anything; he wasn't going to get the opportunity to speak to his father; with this many watchers, he could do nothing to sabotage the drill; and he'd lost the dagger, which felt like the last straw. Azula had risked nothing – although not entirely as desperate as he'd pretended to be, he couldn't be a threat to her – and she must still hope that he'd deliver Uncle to her.

The blackened metal mountain loomed up ahead, as if mocking him. The sun was directly overhead, and its heat combined with the heat of the furnaces nearby to unpleasant effect. At least the walkways would provide a bit of shade. What he wouldn't give to lose his watchers for a moment – but no, then Azula would know who had sabotaged her precious weaponized horror.

It seemed almost pointless to try. Azula had thought of everything, like she always did. To act counter to her wishes was foolishness – and she was so often right, why did he even want to act against her? So easy to do nothing. He felt like a fire banked all the way down to coals. He could just do nothing. No, he couldn't leave without accomplishing something. He'd always fought. For a mad moment, he thought of just blasting the drill with everything he had. He wouldn't get out alive, of course, but maybe he didn't need to. How long would it take these people to react and stop him? He might have as many as three seconds. If he put everything into his strike… it probably still wouldn't be enough. Unless he hit something critical by chance, a hole could be repaired fairly easily.

No. Wearily, he began to climb onto the walkway. He needed to come up with something better, or he'd just make a laughingstock of himself again. The metal wall seemed smooth and invincible in his peripheral vision. Come on, come on, he coaxed himself. Where were the weak points? The thick carapace hid the internal structure, but there must be something. Metal deformed under stress, could be melted, would rust unless protected…

Yes! He struggled not to smile, and felt like the fire inside him was hesitantly starting to burn higher. A machine this massive would rely heavily on lubrication between joints to move. He could ignite the oil inside the joints. Wait, no, that wouldn't do much good. A fire wouldn't burn easily inside confined spaces, and if it did, it would be quickly spotted, and the oil reapplied. He still would have only a few minutes between sabotage and suspicion.

With more and more effort, he considered and discarded a few possibilities, until finally, he hit upon the perfect plan. Now to see whether he had the skill to carry it off. He was a very mediocre firebender, after all, and he'd never, ever won against Azula.


	21. Unforced Connections

**Author's Notes:** 1) I didn't mean to leave you all with a cliffhanger for over a month. My health problems flared up with a vengeance, and I barely function when that happens, much less write.

2) For the same reason, I think I forgot to answer some of my reviewers, and now I'm not sure who. If that was you, I apologize.

3) I'm still not even firmly back to "so-so," and my doctor is experimenting with my medications right now. Future chapters are likely to be delayed until things settle, though hopefully, not this long again.

4) I don't like thinking up titles, but it's difficult to remember what happened when in a story this long, so I'm going to make chapter titles. Since it might make things easier for you, the readers, as well, I'll add them into the dropdown list here, too, so don't be surprised.

**Chapter 21**

Zuko had once found out (at the worst possible time, naturally), that extreme heat, such as, say, from ancient and overworked engines, could warp metal subtly, make oil gummy, and jam mechanisms that weren't even near the engines. Most people, however, might not be aware of that, or if they did know about this effect, might assume that the heat of the sun had done the damage. The drill was made in sections, and each would need to move exactly in time with the others. Even a small catch at the joins would, in wrenching free, create some damage, and if he could manage to direct such heat under the metal skin, the damage wouldn't be visible until too late. All the workers were at the tail end of the drill, while their group was going around the head so as not to get in the way.

Though most firebending was done with fire, the same principles applied to heat; it was just much more difficult. Perhaps his experience with manipulating fire at long distance would carry over. He did his best to ignore what he was actually seeing, since closing his eyes might be suspicious, and focused his heatsense. (His attention was briefly distracted by the sense that there was something off about Ty Lee's fire, but it wasn't anything as obvious as an empty spot, and the drill had to come first.) The gradients of temperature radiating back up from the metal swayed like sheets of seaweed in response to the slow air currents. If he could compress those large gradients into a small point, the heat should be intense. A physical motion to create the pathway (an unobtrusive one, even though that made bending more difficult) – a sort of mental push to ensure it happened at the right distance – he closed his hands and breathed out.

The billowing heat contracted for an instant; then he couldn't hold it. Once again, he wasn't good enough. _How useless can you be? _ Hopelessly, he tried again, but it was like firebending underwater. In desperation, he visualized the energy flow inside his body reaching out into the air, as he'd done for the training to redirect lightning, and visualized it not just flowing, but using his body as the fuel, like he'd done when actually firebending underwater. Pathway… push…

The aftershock left him weak. Had it worked? Behind him, he could feel a metal-dimmed bubble of intense heat; the irregular sides suggested that it was starting to radiate into the internal structures, even if he couldn't feel it. He blinked hard against the dizziness and moved on; had to act natural. The next time, he couldn't stop himself from swaying, but Ty Lee caught his arm in time. "Are you all right, Zuko?" she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"I'm okay," he waved off her concern. Just up ahead, he could see where the drill itself joined to the body of the machine. If he damaged anything, he had to damage that.

"Are you sure? You look all grey, and I don't mean your aura, although that could use some color, too."

Explanation, a plausible explanation… "Yes, well," he made sure to speak quietly and sound a bit embarrassed, "it's just that I haven't eaten in a while."

"Oh!" she pressed both hands to her mouth. "And Azula didn't offer you any refreshment! We've been really bad hosts, haven't we?"

He had to smile a little. Ty Lee was the same as always. "No, not your fault."

"Come on, sit down for a moment." With the remarkable strength that he remembered well, she drew him down onto the wooden planks, and addressed the people following them. "I forgot – I really wanted some juice. Would you like some juice, Zuko?" He nodded. "Could you bring us some? Big, cold glasses of it? I know they serve it to the workers in that tent over there," she pointed.

The woman who had talked to Azula bowed. "Right away." The rest of them pretended to have stopped to admire the view, but Ty Lee still watched him closely. Well, he had made the motion unobtrusive, and they sat very close to the target. He had a bad moment where he wondered if he'd faint halfway through; his heatsense became blurred. The juice really did help, however. He thanked Ty Lee and the woman, and when he walked around to the other side, repeated the technique again, just to be sure. Bright lights swam in front of his eyes, and he couldn't distinguish hot from cold anymore, but all he had to do was follow alongside Ty Lee. With the last reserves of his energy, he focused on moving normally.

After they got out of the central valley, Ty Lee asked him where he had come in, without enthusiasm, so he felt certain it was an Azula kind of question. He pointed out the sloping pass by which he'd pretended to come; it led to one of the main roads nearby. The other watchers soon fell behind as they returned to their normal patrol duties. When that happened, Ty Lee became much more lively, and began to ask him about his life in exile, interspersing her questions with many details of her own life in the past few years, with particular emphasis on how Mai had been.

He enjoyed her tales, but he was deathly tired, his mind too hazy to listen well. It could also be an attempt to get him to slip up on his cover story, so his answers were somewhat short. Vague memory of the oddity he'd felt in her fire today prompted him to ask about her health, but Ty Lee said that she was perfectly fine with great surprise at the question. Hastily, he switched the topic to her time at the circus.

When they crossed the top of the pass, she stopped. Backlit by the afternoon light, she looked like a glowing pink torch. Her grin still took up most of her face, and her eyes crinkled with good cheer. There was one honest thing he wanted to be sure to say to her. "I appreciate you coming with me."

Her cheeks grew even pinker and she twisted her hands together. "Thanks, Zuko. I know you'd have preferred Mai, but… and it was nice to see you again."

He nodded gently. "It was nice to see you again, too, and you've been a good friend to Mai, I know." He wasn't sure he'd made his meaning clear, but it seemed like she understood.

"Good luck!" she cartwheeled back down the slope.

He stared for a blank moment at her speed. Whatever had kept him going in front of witnesses was gone, and he himself was not capable of moving fast anymore. He barely found a hollow with an overhang to shelter under before he fell into it. Well, it didn't feel like he broke his nose, at least. Between one vague swipe at the blood and the next, he fell asleep.

He slept, but woke often at various noises, and when he shifted, things hurt. Thus, he was still fairly wrung out when he heard a deep mechanical roar. They must be starting the drill! Soon after, he heard an unearthly screech and even from his hiding place, he saw several volleys of lightning flash across the clear dawn sky. He smiled dopily and fell back asleep. He'd done it. Just a bit more rest, and he would go back.

The sound of a fireblast woke him next – it seemed to be around midmorning. "No! Let us go!" cried someone. Zuko pressed back into his limited hiding space, not sure he could even defend himself right now.

"Get back to work," was the flat answer; the voice had the bit of hollow echo imparted by Fire Nation helmets.

"Please," the first voice begged. "My wife hasn't been well since autumn. She's much too weak to work! They said yesterday would be the last! Please let us go. You're killing her!"

There was a long pause. The Fire Nation soldier answered at last, "For the memory of my daughter, I'll let her go, but you must come back with me."

"She won't survive alone!"

A reedy woman's voice joined the conversation – frightened, but attempting to be the voice of reason. "I'll be fine, Kuo. We weren't sure to get even this far." Her voice grew firmer. "All the same, please understand. I'm ill, but who can stay well under the conditions in the quarry? When we begged for kindness of your princess, she said that we had the choice either to rest when we were done, or rest when we were dead. If you can, if you are able at all, spare him such a fate!"

The soldier heaved a sigh. "If I return empty-handed, do you think it will go well for me? I have a family to care for, too. I'm sorry, but I've already given you the best offer I could. It won't be much longer. Our engineers estimate the repairs will take a week at most, perhaps five days, and then we will leave." _Days?_ he thought numbly. _Just five days? _ "You will be allowed to return to your homes and will never see Princess Azula again." His tone became wry. "We, on the other hand, have to follow her."

It didn't take long for the villagers to resign themselves. When Zuko felt it safe to sit up, the soldier and his prisoner had already disappeared down the pass, while the woman hobbled down the track to the main road. Quite young and dangerously thin, she leaned upon a cane as she walked. No wonder the soldier let her go; the greater wonder was that she and her husband had made it this far before they were tracked down. He saw her raise a hand to her face as if to wipe away tears.

Her misery echoed his. He'd been useless, absolutely useless. All that effort with everything he had, and all he'd done was slow the attack by so little? And made things worse for everyone in the meanwhile? _Stupid. Should have known. _When he tried to get going, everything from his stomach on up hurt, and his movements were stiff. _Disgustingly weak._

He stared at his hands, where deep red patches had shown up in the night, particularly over the backs of his hands and encircling the wrists. There was something odd about the pattern of redness – he peeled up a sleeve and saw blotchy red lines going up. They looked like a child's drawing of chi meridians, which confirmed his suspicions. He poked experimentally – they hurt like bruises. Bad, or not as bad as it could have been? It was hard to think.

He made his way straight back to where Uncle waited. By the time he got there, the bruises had deepened and began to turn purple. Uncle's reaction to seeing that was not a good one – apparently, his face was particularly gruesome – and it took him a lot of effort to calm Uncle down. That he had to admit his utter failure at the same time… perhaps it was just as well that he was woozy from the two cups of painkilling tea that Uncle made him drink. So unnecessary – one would be enough. He slumped back. When he came to, Uncle had found or scrounged some other kind of herb which was apparently good for bruising and made him drink two cups of that, too. That much steam made him start coughing, hard.

"Zuko, stop it." Uncle sounded frightened. "Teach me the healing maneuver. Zuko, pay attention!"

He levered himself up fully, which helped with the coughing, and tried to explain, but he must have done it wrong, because Uncle's attempt didn't seem right. "It's like this," he tried to demonstrate. His hand shaped the movement, but inside, nothing responded. He stared at his hand in horror. "I can't – I can't –" Frantically, he tried to bend fire to the side, and instead of the usual swift roll of warmth and the bright blossom of flame, there was just a sluggish stirring and a pale, flickering puff. That was just – too much. Forgetting that Uncle could see him, he curled up into a tight ball. He thought he would cry, but no tears emerged.

A hand on his back brought him back to reality, and yet another wave of shame swamped him. "You're shivering," Uncle's voice murmured, "it's okay, it'll be fine." Warmth spread through him from the point of contact. "Hmm," the voice above him mused, "you know, Zuko, I think I understand the principle after all. How's this?"

The warmth spread again, and this time, it made him breathe easier. The omnipresent aches lessened. It took him a few moments to find his voice, though. "That helped. Thanks, Uncle."

"Good," Uncle patted his shoulder. "I'm afraid it'll have to do for now. I'm not so strong – or reckless – as you are."

"What are you talking about?" he protested.

"I found even this once quite draining. What you did to the drill – that was amazing, but Zuko, please, for the sake of your poor old uncle, don't ever amaze me like that again."

"Don't patronize me." Was that his voice, so sniveling? Uncle must despise him, too. He made an effort to sit up straight; he could do that much, at least.

"I meant what I said. Your firebending will –"

"Not any longer!"

"Calm _down_," Uncle was exasperated. "Did you truly expect no aftereffects to such a strenuous effort? Only you, Zuko… You must have drained your chi to the last drop. It'll take a while for it to regenerate, even with what I've just given you, but you haven't lost your firebending."

He couldn't help turning to look at Uncle's face, or pleading, "Are you sure?"

"I am." He did _sound_ sure… "Just rest, Prince Zuko. I'll deliver the letter to our friends."

"Huh?" was the best he could manage, his mind not quite keeping up.

"You saw the drill, like you told me you could, and your sabotage has gained us time." Uncle pulled out the paper and writing supplies that Yun-Min gave them for such a contingency. "Now, what were its dimensions?" With these questions, Uncle neatly steered the conversation away from anything but the immediate concerns. When he was done writing, he explained that all he had to do was hide the letter in the agreed-upon spot, and he'd be right back. After extracting a promise from Zuko to rest, he left.

Zuko tried to follow through on his promise. He really did. He even drank more tea. But after only a short nap, he woke up so paralyzed with nameless terror that even opening his eyes seemed like a daunting task. The fear subsided quickly, but the urge to stay frozen remained. He'd had sudden episodes like this before, and it was always bad. If he didn't move _now_, he'd be like this for days before it wore off – or maybe _forever_. The idea of a future as a fireless, useless, sniveling lump that Uncle hauled around for his own inscrutable reasons…

By slow increments, fighting against torpor, he got the heartstone out. One small flick, and it clattered over the floor, far enough away that he couldn't reach it. Now came the part where he lied to himself that he didn't have to do anything more than stand and pick it up. It took a few minutes, but it was Mai's gift to him lying in the dirt, so eventually, it worked, as it had before. Once he retrieved it, it was easier to convince himself to stay upright, to start doing something. A scrawl of an explanation for Uncle was nearly as much as he could accomplish. Then he went. Anywhere. Somewhere.

After a while, the warmth of the sun on his face, the cool gusts of wind around him, and the smell of the springtime forest cleared his mind a little. He needed a goal – something, anything. His pack was still up the mountain. If Uncle was wrong, well, he needed his swords. He had gloves there, too. Might stop the Ba Sing Se gate guards from asking too many questions. Maybe. Nothing he did had much effect.

By the time he got there, it was late afternoon. As he made his way up the steep slope, he'd even cautiously tried to feel the flow of chi inside himself as he reached for handholds. The response _might_ have been less sluggish. He didn't dare think beyond that for now. Once he got the pack, a rest became necessary, even though he knew it could mean another struggle to get back up.

He moved just his arms, then, testing the quickness of his reflexes against the remaining bruising at the joints. It helped that he'd learned not to let bruises slow him down after that fall at the Southern Air Temple. (He'd been desperate, unable to believe that the last temple, the one which used to house the Avatar, still had no clues for him. Made all sorts of stupid mistakes.) Something clicked in his mind, from the Avatar's tales of temple life. Wait, so that was the airball playing field? Not the remains of some giant mechanism? He'd gotten himself that banged up because of a _playing field_? Ordinarily, the thought would have made him laugh at least a little. Right now, it solely made him feel more of an idiot.

He let his head drop back against the rockface. The sun warmed his face, and it felt like the warmth began to seep inside him, sunray by sunray, from a very distant place. Some time later, he heard the sounds of running feet, then of fireblasts. More escapees from Azula's workforce? She probably had quite a large problem with that. To slow her down, even a little… Quickly, he threw on the Blue Spirit disguise.

Then, almost disbelieving, he heard the thump of a water whip. Voices cried out in pain. A familiar voice called, "We're almost there!"

He scrambled up over the top of the ridge almost before he knew it. Then he leapt downslope to plant himself between the Avatar's group and the firebenders who pursued them. A part of his mind babbled about whose side was he on, and why did he even _dare_ think that he was capable of helping anybody? Another part answered that Azula couldn't be allowed to get the Avatar, and they could be useful to him. Right, he could get from them – something – _think about it later_. Mostly, he just saw the looks of delighted recognition on their faces and felt the first rekindling of happiness.

* * *

><p>Earlier that day, Suki saw Aang and Katara hugging and smiled to herself. Suki liked Katara, especially after seeing her in action with the Serpent, not to mention the way that she'd gotten everyone organized for baby Hope's birth, and it was nice to see her get some appreciation. She'd have made a great Kyoshi warrior, with or without her waterbending.<p>

Katara adjusted Aang's collar as she stepped back, and Suki heard her say something about how it should only take a few more hours to catch up with Appa. She sighed a bit – she would really have liked to stay longer in this friendly group – but it would be awkward, and she had responsibilities, even if it sometimes seemed that being a guard wasn't that great, or even really useful. She shouldered her pack and approached Sokka, who crouched over a bagful of scrolls.

"Sokka, it's been really great to see you again," she said.

He stood immediately. "Whoa, hold on. Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye ?"

"I came along because I wanted to make sure you got through the Serpent's Pass safely," she explained. "But now I need to get back to the other Kyoshi warriors."

He literally drooped, with his arms and head both flopping down. "So you came along to protect me ."

Yeah, such a great plan, wasn't it? She blushed a little. At least they got to spend a little time together. She wanted to say goodbye without any misunderstandings – make sure he knew she'd be his friend no matter what. "Listen, I'm really sorry about last night. We were talking, and saying things," and he liked her, just not that much. She closed her eyes. "I just got carried away and before I knew it I…"

That was a kiss, a real kiss. It was over far too quickly, but when her eyes flew open, Sokka looked at her with such tenderness… "You talk too much," he said. Oh, she was going to make him pay for that comment, but then he kissed her again, and she decided that she would still make him pay, but later.

They kept kissing until a not-so-discreet cough sounded. Aang stood nearby, with his eyes theatrically averted and an ear-splitting grin on his face. "Guys, are you ready to go?" he asked.

"I suppose so," she sighed. "Good luck, Aang." She couldn't see anybody else around. "Sokka, give my best wishes to everybody, would you?"

"Sure." By the way he stared at her with dreamy intent, she wondered if he would remember. Ah, well. Couldn't be helped. She had to fight not to turn back herself.

She barely got a few steps away before she heard loud whispering behind her. "Sokka, _what_ are you doing?" Katara hissed. Suki feared, belatedly, that Katara had some objection to her. Much as she liked Sokka, she'd spent her life so far relying on her sister warriors, and their opinions had a large impact on whether a relationship could succeed. Thankfully, Katara's next words were, "Why is Suki leaving?"

Suki stopped. Sokka explained dejectedly.

"Did you hit your head lately? How is she getting back – walking around the entire lake? If she comes with us, we can give her a ride back on Appa!"

"Katara, you're the best sister ever!" he declared, forgetting to be quiet.

Suki grinned – she quite agreed – but sighed too. "Under other circumstances, I'd be happy to come with you. But I really do have to get back – by way of the gate and the ferry. I also have to tell the gate guards that the bridge is down, so that they can repair it for the next group of travelers."

His face fell. "Aww, no. We could, we could –" he held up one finger as his face lit up again, "We'll give you a ride to the gate, too! And then back to where you need to go. On Appa, it won't take long at all. C'mon, it'll be faster that way."

"Not by much, if at all, if Appa's rescue takes any time," she said, not as firmly as she would have liked. It was tempting, after all, and the outbound ferries usually took winding trade routes, since they had so few passengers. It might be several days either way.

He grabbed her hand and tried to pull her along. "Then we could really use your help to make the rescue faster! Please, Suki."

She flipped him over her arm neatly. He hit the ground with an 'oof.' "Sokka, if I do agree to come, first things first. I get to decide that, not you. And telling me that I talk too much? Not flattering."

"Sorry," he wheezed and raised both hands in surrender. "I promise you'll decide. And I love to hear you talk, I swear, just not when I'm trying to get you to stay!"

She extended her hand down to him, and when she pulled him to his feet, kissed him. "Deal."

"So you'll come?" he was adorably excited.

In answer, she linked her arm through his. Katara and Aang both looked happy at this. Toph, much less so. When they started walking again, Toph scuffed her feet along the ground and said nothing. With dawning awkwardness, Suki realized just what must be going on. She tried to figure out a way to say _Sorry, Toph_ that wouldn't come off as patronizing, but couldn't, so she said nothing for now. She could remember her first crush. No more public displays. At all.

It was difficult to navigate in this broken-up rocky countryside, especially with Aang's hundred-year-old maps, so Aang called Sokka over to the front. Katara fell in beside her. "You've got your paint a bit… smudged."

She blushed. "Thanks. I'll fix it later." She paused. "So, uh, I suppose everybody saw us."

"I could have stood not seeing my own brother – and Toph's so young she turned nearly green – but I suppose exceptions have to be made for special occasions," Katara said with mild exasperation. She followed this with a smile, so Suki relaxed about her opinion. Now, was Katara really that oblivious about Toph, or was she just trying to spare Toph's feelings? A quick look in Toph's direction showed her that Toph was scowling mightily, and probably had heard. This could get complicated. "Sorry," she said loudly enough for Toph to hear, too.

"I'll live," Katara replied. Toph sort of nodded, and Suki caught her breath in relief that Toph didn't seem angry.

"So, uh," Suki said, "about freeing Appa. I know you didn't really need me along – but count me in."

Katara smiled. "I already have. Aang will probably be going insane from seeing whatever it was they did to Appa, so it might take several of us to keep the rescue going smoothly. And you've got a level head on your shoulders, and combat training, and, hm –"

"Stealth training," she offered.

Katara nodded, looking pleased. "Mustn't overlook that. Hey, here's something I was always wondering. If Kyoshi Island had stayed out of the war for the entire century, then how have you kept your fighting skills going all this time?"

"Well, tradition kept us from letting it die out entirely. Then, about ten years ago, we got pirate company. Got them out, but by the skin of our teeth, and decided we wouldn't be caught like that again. So by the time I started, we had a really good practice regimen, thanks to the previous leader." Katara asked after details (apparently, she had grown up without even tradition to help her figure out her waterbending). Suki was happy to explain, pausing only when she needed to rescue her tassels from Momo's curiosity.

A little gasp from Toph startled them. "What is it?" Katara asked.

Toph laughed nervously. "Nothing, nothing."

Katara kept looking at Toph.

"Just a sharp stick that poked my foot."

Katara didn't argue the excuse, but Suki thought that Toph was paying too much attention to a certain huge boulder up ahead of them. She kept her eye on it, but saw nothing even when they passed it. Still. Something was off.

The conversation expanded as the hours passed – the war, Suki's job as a guard, some of the group's funny-in-retrospect adventures, their childhoods… Sokka kept trying to show off for her, demonstrating this or that new fighting technique and flexing his muscles as if casually. She found it both funny and endearing, especially the part where he got excited rather than jealous when she showed him that he was not the only one who'd learned a thing or two. Aang was more subdued, as he obviously kept all his hopes pinned on finding Appa quickly, but Toph now occasionally joined the conversation. By listening to her, you'd never know that she might have suffered a disappointment recently, and Suki did her best to show respect to Toph without making it contrived.

Finally, Sokka called a halt and unfurled his map again. "Okay, we're nearly there. All we have to do is go through that pass," he pointed it out both on the map and next to them, "and the circus should be somewhere nearby," he ran his finger back and forth through a curving valley. "Now, it's a recently conquered territory, so there will be a few Fire Nation soldiers wandering around, not to mention civilians. Everyone be on the lookout, and hide yourselves."

The terrain here was ideal for hiding – a lot of broken up giant boulders, hills and gullies, and copses of trees. She was ready. Aang, on the other hand, clearly had no idea what he was doing. "I think you'd better follow me," she told him, "and cover up your clothes and tattoos." He nodded and did so. She used warrior paint to hide the last traces of his arrows.

Toph stamped her foot. "All clear here, but there seem to be several people just at the edge of my range there," she reported.

Sure enough, they successfully snuck over the pass. Almost immediately, they saw a huge red tent being raised with ropes at quite a distance to their left. "It's just like on the poster. Appa!" Aang cried as he ran forward.

"Aang, wait!" they all called after him, but he didn't listen. They had no choice but to follow, and it was a good thing they did, because he suddenly stopped in his tracks. A dozen firebenders in full armor came out of hiding to surround him.

Although Suki had never trained with any of them except Sokka, they worked together well. Katara swept water whips in wide arcs to force the knot of soldiers apart and knock them down. She herself and Sokka kept anyone from coming close to Aang (quietly warning him not to airbend – the Avatar was a greater prize than just a kid). Toph flung boulders about and put stone manacles around every soldier that they defeated. In short order, they'd cleared the way of all attackers.

"Sorry, guys," Aang panted. "I'll be more careful now."

"You'd better!" Toph yelled at him. "More incoming! There – and there –" she pointed, "and – oh no, they're trying to cut us off!"

They ran back the way they came, but it was too late – the sounds of fighting had obviously drawn every patrol in the vicinity. So many – too many for just a conquered territory. There was no time to figure out why. They tried fighting their way through, but more and more soldiers hurried towards them.

"Let's go that way!" Aang yelled and pointed towards the tent. Good idea – if Appa was there, they could make a quick getaway. Retreat was easier than advance, too. Toph sent clumps of dirt whizzing at the soldiers' faceplates, then threw an earthen wall in their path. It held for a minute, then exploded in a blaze of combined fireballs. "Toph!" Katara yelled with a gleeful smile. "Mud! Together on three!" Toph grinned back, and Katara quickly counted off. On three, Toph lifted her hands and all the loose soil lifted into the air. She turned her hands over and it fell straight onto their attackers. At almost the same time, Katara bent water out of the waterskins the soldiers carried with such force that the corks popped. The dirt and water combined to form a very satisfying mudslick, and the soldiers screamed as they slid uncontrollably down. Some of them tried to bend and got clay mittens for their efforts.

No time to laugh, though. They all ran quickly, and gained a good amount of distance. But all they saw when they skidded into the tent were stands and a stage being set up. Aang's face twisted, and he looked like he might collapse. Katara grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away; Suki helped. The bewildered circus workers wouldn't be stupefied forever. "The animals must be kept elsewhere. Let's go, let's go!"

They ran on and saw some small animal cages, but no Appa. "Where is he?" Aang screamed angrily.

Multiple clanking sounds announced that the firebenders had caught up with them, and a solid wall of fire advanced on them. Katara and Toph used their elements like shields, and Aang joined them with waterbending after a second, but there wasn't enough water for both him and Katara – and of course, he couldn't switch to earth now without revealing himself as the Avatar. Since Katara was the better waterbender, he let her have most of their supplies. Instead of attacking himself, whenever she and Sokka threw their weapons, he retrieved them with tendrils of water. They knocked out one soldier after another, but Suki felt as if she were contributing less than her share, since the other women did more than her. Anyway, there were still too many. "Retreat!" Sokka called. "That way! Hide behind the trees!"

Now as they ran, they had to keep pausing to break up the enemy forces. Slowly, the numbers dwindled, but they needed a short break to regroup, themselves. The firebenders had grown wise to the mud trick and baked the ground into clay before advancing. The mountain slopes grew steeper as they approached the denser part of the forest, which made it more difficult to maneuver to higher ground. They'd make it through to the other side, far more quickly than the heavily armored enemy, but it would be uncomfortably close. "We're almost there!" Aang cried encouragingly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something – someone – hurtle down towards them. Didn't look like a firebender, but she almost attacked the potential threat – as did Toph – before Sokka told them "He's a friend!" Another pair of – it seemed he favored swords – would be handy, but not all that useful, she thought – until she saw that the firebenders had frozen where they stood.

"It's the Blue Spirit!" several of them screamed. Now that he'd stopped moving, Suki saw the edges of a mask, and that he stood in a good battle stance and held his swords easily – but why such fear? He took a few slow, deliberate steps forward, and many simply ran.

Except it wouldn't be that easy. "Hold your ground, you bastards!" some commander boomed. "I'll have you all executed for desertion, else!"

"Sir, don't you know what he did to the Princess' ship?" a subordinate pleaded.

"I don't care! He's obviously no ghost. Attack!" the man led by example.

With wonder, she saw the newcomer duck _under_ the fire barrage. She'd have worried, but the commander went down immediately, and the swordsman popped back into sight briefly only to knock one firebender into another. Inside their lines, they couldn't bend much fire without hitting each other, and he made full use of that. Katara sent water to extinguish as much of the flames as she could, and Suki shook off the desire to just keep watching. No matter how good, one man couldn't take on a company – she and the others backed him up. It was a quick victory. The firebenders were too demoralized to fight hard, and with bending and weapons ranged against them, they didn't last long. As soon as all the firebenders either fled or were taken out, the newcomer pointed with one of his swords towards the most convenient crossing-point, and climbed the slope. He then quickly led them through the rocky hills. Suddenly, he began to cough – a hard, dry cough, though he kept moving, even bent over with one hand pressed to his chest. Katara insisted they stop, so they found a good hiding place and did so.

* * *

><p>Toph hadn't paid much attention to the swordsman – the infamous Blue, apparently – as they ran, but when he slowed down because of the cough, something tickled at her memory. Did she know him from somewhere? Up until now, his footsteps hadn't seemed familiar, but now, there was a similarity to… someone.<p>

Katara fussed over him, asking him what was wrong and whether he needed healing, while Aang and Sokka pelted him with multiple questions about whether he was okay and where he'd been in different tones of worry, happiness, and relief. Even Momo squeaked at him from Aang's shoulder. Blue waved his hands, obviously unsure of what to answer first and wanting them to slow down. Katara reached towards him (Toph felt the odd drone around Katara's hands which meant waterbending), but he dodged her as easily as he'd dodged the firebenders earlier, then gently pushed her arm away.

He then took off the small pack he carried, took out the slate board she'd heard mentioned, and began to write something quickly. Chalk on a slate which he balanced on top of a rock outcropping – Toph realized she could, for the first time in her life, examine something written, and concentrated. It wasn't easy, but at last she distinguished the chalk particles amongst all the other vibrations. Writing was a series of lines crossing each other in complex patterns, apparently. Suddenly, Sokka said, "You don't need to bother; it's just some bruising."

"What?" she asked. "What bruising?"

"Sorry, Toph," Sokka said. "I was just reading what Blue wrote."

She felt like making him suffer a little, so she waved a hand in front of her eyes. "Hm, perhaps you should have made it _clearer_ that you weren't speaking for yourself."

Sokka's shoulders drooped. "Right. Clearer."

He was just so easy to bait. She hid her grin.

Blue pointed to her and to Suki, then tilted his head questioningly.

"Oh, right!" Sokka slapped his forehead. "Should have introduced you all right away. Blue, this is Suki. She's a Kyoshi Warrior – you know, from the island." Blue nodded. Toph wondered why Suki got to be introduced first. "We'd met before, and she taught me some great fighting moves, and now that we've run into each other again, well," Sokka's excitement became even more palpable than it had been for hours, "we're together now."

Didn't take much, did it? Toph's weird sense of disappointment, which had been plaguing her since morning, flared up again and made her miss whatever Blue's response had been. She sat down and began to clean the mud off her feet (it made things slightly fuzzy, though of course her senses would never be thwarted by a little mud). Really, it wasn't that she didn't like Suki, but why did she have to keep tagging along? In Suki's presence, the soothing, deep resonance she'd grown used to feeling from Sokka changed to a jittery one, and Toph knew she didn't like that.

Toph only came back from those thoughts when she heard her own name, "…she's Aang's new earthbending teacher. We found her in Gaoling right after we saw you last, and she's amazing! You should have seen her taking on all those huge earthbender guys by herself!" Although it was no more than the truth, Toph felt better at hearing him say so. The enjoyable timbre of his voice, at least, didn't change around Suki.

"Eh, they needed their butts kicked," she smirked.

She sensed that Blue was curious about her, rather than dismissive, like most people would be because of her age. In fact, it was almost surprising, how unsurprised he was.

"She's so good that she's invented a way to see with earthbending," Katara added.

Now he was surprised, and respectful with it. Quickly, he turned back to the slate, scratching something quickly. "Blue just asked 'How?'" Sokka said.

So that particular pattern meant "how"? Even as she explained – twelve years she'd gone without explaining to anyone, and now this was the fourth time in a couple of weeks – a part of her mind focused on memorizing the pattern. It wasn't like it was useful to her, but it was satisfying all the same, a "take that" to her former tutors and their clucking over how allowances had to be made for the poor child who was unable to read.

Sokka then explained to Suki about Blue – rescued Aang, friend, yadda yadda. Meanwhile, Toph tried to figure out again if she knew him from somewhere. The footsteps weren't recognizable. Since he didn't speak, she couldn't use her memory for voices. What was left was general size, shape, and proportion – far less useful identifiers than the first two. Something as simple as fatigue could change the resonance of the muscles and throw off her proportion estimates, and his overall shape was a common, unmemorable one. Nothing seemed familiar, nothing, except – the left ear was noticeably smaller than the right. That was an uncommon distinguishing feature. She'd only met a couple of people who had it. The latest one was Iroh's nephew.

Zuko's face was sort of unusual, but here, she couldn't easily distinguish between face and wooden mask, pressed close enough together to distort each other's shape and resonance. She couldn't rule out her guess, but she couldn't confirm it, either, and why would it be Zuko? She'd known when they met him that he wasn't as enthusiastic about capturing Aang as his words would suggest, but he'd been deadly serious all the same. It was something he thought he had to do. Everything she'd heard about Blue suggested a very different kind of person, with much different priorities.

At the moment, in response to a question of whether he was all right, Blue shook his head no. Katara became extremely anxious, and Toph nudged her in inquiry. "It's the first time he's ever _admitted_ it so easily," she told her in a low tone, before taking her place in the noisy attempts to get him to elaborate. Sokka continued to read out the replies, fairly vague ones at first, but then Blue wrote, "I failed to accomplish several of my objectives, used up too much chi strength in the latest failure, and some family issues came up. Now please don't push."

The three who knew him immediately switched to reassurance. "Well, surely those are temporary setbacks," Aang said, overlapping with Katara's "It'll get better, and we'll help you if we can," and Sokka's "Don't forget how much you've accomplished in the past." Momo flew over to Blue and butted his head under Blue's hand.

Blue scratched Momo's ears and shrugged tiredly. From what she could read of him, it wasn't a ploy; he really was so down on himself that the reassurance wasn't penetrating his skull. There was another point; he didn't react as strongly to everything as Zuko. "Hey," she said. "Not that I know you, but when firebenders tremble at the mere sight of you, you must have done something right."

It didn't cheer him up any more than the other comments, but Sokka got excited. "That's right. And you've gotta tell us – what did you do to Princess Azula's ship that they still remember you? That must be some story!"

Blue wrote for a bit without enthusiasm. "It isn't," Sokka read out the latest message. "I just damaged it somewhat. I did use some spooky sight and sound effects to frighten the soldiers. Since Princess Azula is now here, those soldiers must be as well, and they must have exaggerated what happened, so as not to seem cowardly."

"Wait," Katara interrupted. "You didn't know they'd be frightened into running, and you planned to fight them all? You could have been fried!"

"Ha!" Sokka protested. "Takes more than that."

Blue wrote more rapidly. "Considering that the five of you were already holding them off quite well, I really didn't have much to worry about in joining your fight."

"But how did you dodge those fireballs?" Aang asked. "I gotta know that!"

"Well, if you're planning on dismantling the drill, yes, you do," Sokka read out, then interrupted himself. "Wait, what drill?"

Blue startled, wiped out the rest of whatever the sentence had been and wrote instead with some anger, "The giant one menacing Ba Sing Se, perhaps? Isn't that why you're here?"

"Ah, no," Aang rubbed the back of his neck. "Haven't heard of it."

"Yes, we have!" Toph interrupted. "Don't you remember? We were even arguing about whether to find that first or get you trained first."

"Oh, right!" Sokka said. "So that's why we haven't seen you until now!" he addressed Blue. "They sent you alone against a giant drill, huh? How's that going?"

Blue stiffened at the same time as Katara jabbed an elbow into Sokka's side. "Sokka, how about you think on it for a single moment?" she chided him quietly.

Sokka did, and worked it out quickly. "Ah! Well, since we _had_ planned to do something about it sooner or later," Blue started writing again, angrily, "then as soon as we rescue Appa, we'll take care of that!"

Blue thrust his slate at Aang, who read, "Better make it sooner; you've got five days. Appa?"

Aang began to give a very abbreviated explanation of all that had happened since they'd seen Blue last. Blue had a strong, complicated reaction to the news of the advantage they'd gained over the Fire Nation. It was hard to tell exactly what kind, but generally not a pleased one. Toph's suspicions were aroused again. Sure, there must be several people in the world with such ears. But she'd sensed Iroh on the road today, alone, and Iroh wouldn't go far from his nephew.

She'd almost given Iroh away with her startle, so she'd been ready to drop him into a hole until their group safely passed. Somehow, however, he'd kept the boulder between himself and their group, almost as if he wasn't relying on sight, either. Hmm, she could believe it of him. He was too smart to think that blind equaled helpless. She'd been happy that Iroh was okay, though she noticed the same kind of worry in him as when they first met – was it because the nephew had stupidly gotten himself lost again?

No one would react well if she was wrong. And if she was right? There must be some reason why a prince of the Fire Nation would be running around in a mask and helping his enemies. She could, unwittingly, trample in something. No, she'd wait and listen for the right opportunity to check, but there was no reason she couldn't probe in other ways.

Aang finished his explanation. Blue wrote, "Yes, you'll have to retrieve Appa first, but it's going to be extremely difficult right now."

"We're not waiting!" Aang said angrily. "Who knows what could be happening to him?"

Blue nodded. "It's worrisome. But getting yourself killed instead will accomplish nothing, and this is the most-guarded area in the vicinity."

"You're a bit behindhand," she joined the conversation. "Now that _some of us_ know that we need to be careful, we won't make noise, and I can detect patrols from afar. We sneak in, blend in with the circus crowd, and once we have Appa, getting out will be pretty simple. Not a whole lot stands in the way of a giant flying critter."

She felt him nod with exasperation, but didn't realize it wasn't in agreement till he finished writing "Exactly. What if the reason Appa hasn't escaped yet is because they're keeping him drugged?" and Sokka read it out. This was a very annoying method of communication, but it was a good question.

"I could try healing him," Katara said dubiously.

"I'd find whoever was responsible and make them give me the antidote," Aang sounded very grim.

"Or," said Suki, "we could stop guessing in advance of our knowledge. What we need is a recon mission. If Appa's there and just being restrained, we get him out immediately. If it's something worse, we find out what to do about it, and come back later if we have to. No, Aang, this is the best way," she forestalled the protest. "He's valuable to them, so they won't hurt him, and an extra few hours won't make much difference."

Reluctantly, Aang agreed. They all began to discuss the details. Whether they all needed to go or whether it might be easier with fewer people. How exactly they would disguise themselves. Whether freeing Appa might make enough noise that the nearby patrols would catch them in the act, anyway, and so they would need to fight firebenders again while escaping, and what to do about it. Aang insisted that this time, he wanted to fight, too, and despite everyone telling him that the last headache they needed was for the firebenders to try to bring down the Avatar, he wouldn't quite give up on the idea. Blue wouldn't be able to join them, since apparently, he had somewhere else to be by sunset, but for now, he stayed to help finetune the rescue plan, and said that he could come back in a few hours to help make plans about the drill.

Sokka began to draw a crude map in the dirt. At least, that's what he said he did. "What's that supposed to be?" she scoffed at a jagged line.

"The mountains, of course!" he answered, a bit offended.

"Mountains don't look anything like _that_."

"It's a strategic representation, not a painting!"

"Toph," Katara said, "how would you draw a mountain? I mean, I understand that you don't see things the same way we do."

"I wouldn't. I'd do this." Concentrating, she created a miniature model of the valley in question.

She grinned toothily at the exclamations around her. "At your service."

"This is great, Toph!" Sokka said. "We'll definitely use it." She felt a bit warm, suddenly.

"But," Katara added, "we can't do what you did, and we can tell what Sokka was trying to draw, so his artistic skills don't deserve this much criticism."

"Thanks, Ka –"

"Though they definitely deserve some."

"Hey!"

"So I've never seen a drawing in my life – so what? Isn't it difficult to squash the world flat to put it on a piece of paper without completely distorting it? You're the weird ones, not me."

"Our eyes already see the world as mostly flat," Suki argued unexpectedly. "Also, your model takes up a lot of space. You could have a whole atlas in a smaller space, and it would have drawings not just of this place, but of many others, too."

"Huh." She drummed her fingers on a nearby rock. "I suppose so, but it still seems weird and not that great. I used to wish sometimes I could read, so that I wouldn't have to memorize all my lessons – very, very boring lessons, made more boring when someone keeps repeating them to you until you can repeat them back – but I did fine. Same with this."

Suki smiled. "It is weird, but that's how it goes."

Blue reached out to tap her shoulder with a stick for attention, and scratched some writing patterns into the earth. According to Katara, the message was, "Wouldn't you be perfectly able to read if the words were written like this?" As Katara read, Blue tapped his stick by one pattern after another.

She smiled with one corner of her mouth. "Yeah. But my tutors had no idea I could see with earthbending. Poor little delicate Toph was supposed to have nothing to do with mud. Anyway, it's a useless skill to me, since most people don't write in the dirt, or on a slate like you."

He nodded, but wrote, "You could still take notes that way."

"Hold on, hold on," Sokka added. "Taking notes? Reading is one thing, but writing when you can't see where you're putting the brush – well, the stick – isn't going to work."

"I can write my name with my eyes closed even using a brush," Blue replied. "We had to practice that at school. It's difficult at first, yes, but it's a matter of memorizing the movements. Useless, but not impossible."

Something in her went cold. "Wait. You're saying I could learn to sign my name. On paper. Yes?"

He nodded with some curiosity. "A signature is more complicated than ordinary writing, though, and the same sounds can be written with different kanji, so if your family has a traditional way of writing your name, you'd have to find that out first," he added.

"Show me," her voice came out flat and hard. "I need to learn that." Producing her passport, she shoved it into his hands. (It was the only proof she had that her parents had ever let the wider world know that they had a daughter, so she felt a brief twinge at handing it over.) "There. That has my name."

He looked at her steadily for a long moment, then acted as if he suddenly understood. Her fists clenched. If he dared pity her… He held up his hands defensively, then shook his head as if to say "Perish the thought." Then, with occasional glances at the passport, he began to write on the ground, far more slowly than he had before, forming each line very carefully. He didn't seem to have a reaction to finding out that her family were the Bei Fongs. Of course, not everyone in the Earth Kingdom knew of them, but most people _did_. Not him.

When done, he reached for his slate again. "You'll need to memorize this first, and be able to reproduce it on the ground. Then you'd need to practice doing so on paper – that's more difficult, particularly because for formal signing, you'd need to be able to have fine control over raising and lowering the brush."

She scoffed. "Not a problem. Just have to borrow Sokka's scrolls to practice on,"

Sokka yelped and hugged his pack to his chest. "They're valuable, ancient scrolls! You can't just scribble on them." She glared in his direction. "Well, I suppose we could spare one or two," he amended in a very reluctant tone. "We don't have writing supplies, anyway."

Blue's next message was, "I do, though not with me right now. Maybe a few scraps of paper, too. I can bring them tonight."

"Good." She couldn't quite say thanks, because it made her feel too exposed. "Anyway. What are we wasting time for?"

They fell into a discussion of the terrain, using her model, which she adjusted to include the initial locations of the patrols they encountered today on Blue's request. After studying it, he noted that they'd changed the patrol patterns since a day before, and according to him, this new pattern was meant for close sweeps. Exactly the kind they didn't want to deal with.

Aang then remembered again his question about evading fire. "It's simple," Blue replied. "A group of firebenders is trained to use particular techniques to avoid injuring their own side, which actually makes them easier to deal with than a single one. When they start to sweep their arms around like this," he demonstrated at that point in the reading, "it means a chest-height expanding stream of fire, the usual first attack in any case. It takes a fair amount of distance for the fireballs to expand fully, so if you are quick, it's easy to slip under – or jump over – the attack. Under is better because the fire tends to hide your movement from them."

Oh, interesting, and in more than one way. Blue kept revealing all sorts of potential ways around the firebenders. He also explained the setup for the drill, and was very insistent that they should attack it only after it was far away from the valley, because otherwise, the people here would be forced to work on it again. His loyalties didn't seem to lie with the Fire Nation, after all.

Sokka and Suki took full advantage of Blue's knowledge, and she could almost feel contingency plans coming together in Sokka's head, and stealth patterns in Suki's. She tried to join in, but she'd always fought alone – she was slower than the two of them to figure out group actions. Unhappily, she settled back again and wished this was over already. While she waited, she copied her name as exactly like the example as she could. When she was sure she had it memorized, she stopped, and was reduced to kicking the ground aimlessly. So when she felt an opportunity to jump back into the discussion, she did. "Aren't you forgetting one other thing we could do?"

"Hmm?" Sokka said.

"Aang, remember? If he could learn firebending defense, that would both be very useful, and confuse the stuffing out of the firebenders."

They all turned to look at Blue, and Toph slapped one hand on the nearest rock just in time to catch as much detail about his reactions as she could. His heartrate spiked in alarm, but he spread his hands in a gesture of 'what.' "We were just wondering," Sokka apologized, "whether you might have seen how they do any defensive moves, like you did with extinguishing a fire."

He froze up in… fear, definitely, but mixed with something too complicated for her to tease out. Then there was a jolt of pure shock from him. A few moments later, he wrote, "I'm not sure. That move is only useful against non-bent fire. For anything else – you do realize that in firebending, most of the defensive moves consist of using an offensive move?"

"Figures," Aang muttered. "In that case, no, I still don't want to hurt people, but isn't there _anything_ else?"

"I'll have to see if I remember anything like that, but there's certainly nothing that I could teach you quickly enough to be useful right now," he wrote.

"It'll be more important when attacking the drill, anyway," Sokka said. "That's when we definitely won't get by just on stealth."

Blue nodded, with some relief. Toph understood after a second. He was buying time. Well, and why?

"Thanks!" Aang said. "Anything we can do to pay you back for your help this time?"

He started to shake his head no, then abruptly stopped. "Actually, I could use your expertise as the Avatar." Aang's mouth hung open in astonishment. "It seems that I do have some connection to the real Blue Spirit. I was able to sort of communicate with him recently, but it consisted of fragmented and confusing images. You can talk with the Spirits, so do you know of any way for an ordinary person to communicate with them more clearly, aside from making an offering?"

Aang drooped unhappily. "I don't know any of that stuff. I barely got two months into my training as the Avatar! There was just enough time for some advanced airbending."

Blue went very still. "Hold on. You told me that they informed you four years too early because they thought they might need an Avatar's power, right?"

"Well, yeah," Aang gave a confused smile.

"Then why was your training only to make you a better airbender? There were plenty of highly skilled airbenders around, and only one Avatar."

"I, I don't know. I guess they thought they would have more time to train me. I did run away early, after all." Suki startled, and Sokka whispered to her that he'd explain later. Toph found herself grimacing a bit. He didn't have to talk to Suki so constantly, did he?

Blue let it go. Aang promised that when he had time, he'd contact Avatar Roku and ask. The reminder of the time caused Blue to jump and hastily write, "I have to leave; I won't make it back before sunset as it is."

"Why, is someone going to be in trouble if you don't?" she asked, curious.

He nodded and pointed very emphatically to himself, made a single brief bow to all of them, and took off. Sokka muttered something as he watched Blue leave. "What?" she asked him.

"I said, it seems that they really don't treat him right."

"I dunno, he felt more frustrated than afraid," she tried to reassure him, but he just shook his head.

* * *

><p>That same day, after the dishes from dinner had been cleared away by nervous servants, Mai followed through on a conversation that she and Ty Lee had earlier. The circus had come to the new Fire Nation colony – the very circus that had given Ty Lee a whole year of happiness. The only problem was Azula's foul mood – the way she'd been, she might deny Ty Lee permission to even go see her circus friends, never mind what Ty Lee actually wanted, which was to perform again for the night or two that the circus would be there. But they knew a few things about how to handle their difficult friend. Accordingly, Ty Lee gazed off dreamily into the distance while Mai drawled, "It's so boring around here, and now we're stuck for several more days."<p>

Azula gave her an unpleasant stare, but Mai had a better immunity to it than Ty Lee, which was why she'd be the one mostly leading this conversation. She stared back emotionlessly.

"Boredom might be the least of our problems," Azula said at last, with a hint of warning in her tone.

Mai made a small, languid motion with the fingertips of her hand. "Yes, I know we still haven't found how the drill got damaged, but with all the soldiers and technicians working on the problem, we ourselves have nothing to do. As I said – boring."

Azula had been meticulous in her investigation, but after questioning Ty Lee and the soldiers relentlessly, she concluded that Zuko had been observed at all times and had neither done any firebending nor been able to get to the insides of the drill. Mai wasn't convinced because she knew that Zuko didn't give up easily. During the painful conversation she'd witnessed, he had. Therefore, he must have had an ulterior motive for doing so. She had a few ideas on why, some of them terrible to contemplate, but she hoped – trusted – that he did have a good explanation. She was certain that some of the things he'd said were true. About his mother, for instance. Zuko would do the impossible for that chance, even if it meant interfering with his sister's plans when they got in the way. Azula had responded very foolishly there (but Mai understood, as Zuko didn't seem to, that Azula had her own hurts on that subject).

She worried about him, especially since Ty Lee had reported that he seemed to have a fever – glazed eyes, an increasingly unsteady gait, and occasional coughing. That was another bit of evidence that he'd done something. He'd been fine when talking, and she could imagine some ways of covering up small firebending moves with a pretended unsteady walk. Azula was convinced that Zuko wasn't capable of that level of firebending based on their recent confrontation, but Mai understood why he might have hid it from her, even then.

The latest report said that the Blue Spirit had been seen helping a strike team of both earth- and waterbenders, so he was probably okay, if a little too invested in his disguise. She couldn't let any of that distract her now, anyway. Together, she and Ty Lee brought the conversation around from boredom to the circus. Before Azula could get angry and forbid it, Mai started downplaying the idea for all she was worth, with arguments such as that she hated crowds. If Azula thought that Mai was making Ty Lee upset with her refusals, she would most likely come to Ty Lee's defense.

It worked. "I've seen a performance," Azula said with her eyes gleaming. "It was a riot of color, exactly of the type you'd enjoy, Mai."

"Ugh." They all knew too many bright colors made her want to throw up.

"The show did have some interest," Azula said with a nod towards Ty Lee, almost like an apology. Azula was not very susceptible to guilt – but that didn't mean she was entirely immune to it. Given the measures she'd taken to get Ty Lee out of the circus, it was no wonder she was feeling it now. However, before they could continue trying to sway her, she said, "Still, it's not safe, at least for now."

Mai chased the remaining slim chance. "Not _safe_? I knew it. You have something for us. Tell! We're stuck in this – inadequate pigsty – but instead of having fun by at least yelling at the peasants, like you usually would, you've been…"

"Almost broody," Ty Lee put in brightly. Mai would not have dared say as much herself, but she had a bit of a struggle holding back a smile at the apt description, or Azula's indignant huff in response.

"Perhaps we _have_ spent too much time here, if you are picking up such rural expressions," Azula said, in that very pleasant tone. "Pickens are broody. I'm strategizing."

They didn't even need to look at each other to know how to handle this. Mai leaned forward alertly, while Ty Lee expertly plastered on an expression of extreme curiosity. The little play on Azula's need to be listened to worked. She leaned forward in turn. "Have you heard of the Blue Spirit before today?"

Of all the things, Mai hadn't expected this. She couldn't allow fear – the Blue Spirit, she made herself think, wasn't connected to anyone she knew. "There was something…" she murmured languidly, "can't quite remember…"

"Didn't he rescue the Avatar?" Ty Lee exclaimed.

"Ah, that was it. I saw a wanted poster to that effect. Utterly boring – couldn't he find anything better to do?"

Azula's expression became calculating. "Yes, that's right. I'd almost forgotten. Treachery, that far back? My father will be interested to hear of this." Mai pressed her feet into the floor, hard; the part of her body above the table had to look bored and relaxed. Snapping back to the present, Azula added, "Neither of you understands what it means that the Blue spirit has been spotted nearby, I take it?"

They both shook their heads.

"It means that he must have sabotaged our drill. Spirit he might be, but this cannot go unpunished. Even spirits must have their weak sides. Until I can come up with a plan, though – be careful."

Mai's eyes widened. Azula sounded – just for an instant – almost afraid. Ty Lee noticed it, too. "You're the smartest!" she gushed. "It won't take you long. Why worry?"

"I'm not worried!" Azula snapped.

They looked at her.

"Well," she amended, "I'm just being reasonably cautious when dealing with an unknown threat."

Mai fingered one of her throwing stars. "I thought the poster specifically said that despite rumors, he wasn't a ghost?"

"No, not a ghost, those are former humans," Azula dismissed the matter. "I've personally seen that he is not human."

It didn't take much coaxing to get Azula to tell the story, though Mai had to work hard not to react at how Azula had imprisoned Zuko and his uncle. "I made certain," Azula's gestures grew more expansive through the telling, "that none of my crew spoke to them and they suspected nothing. Well, Zuko anyway, and he knew better than to listen to our uncle. Yet I've barely slept for two hours before I found them escaping. Something must have warned them. They stole a boat to escape in, and every step of the way, they had help. A sudden fire broke out when they were fighting against overwhelming numbers, for instance. Some of the men later reported a sighting of the Blue Spirit as early as an hour before the escape. They claimed he was man-shaped, at that point, but glowing and floating in the air. Others saw a glowing face under the water. I wouldn't have believed them, except that when the traitors finally got the boat working and fled, I saw… A blue mist rose between the ship and the boat, like a shield, and it did glow."

Azula fell silent here, uncharacteristically, and required more encouragement to go on. At last, she did. "It just hung there, and those so-called soldiers were too frightened to fire at it. I gave the order for the catapults to be raised – the boat was getting further and further away, you understand – and shot lightning at the apparition myself." Again, she fell silent.

"Please, Azula," Mai coaxed, "what did it do? The more we know about it, the better we can help you fight it in the future."

"We want to help!" Ty Lee chimed in, her hands folded beneath her chin as she looked up at Azula adoringly.

"Very well. The lighting hit it, but it just seemed to stretch back and then rebound, as if returning the blow, though my lightning had dissipated. There was an unearthly screech behind me, and I was thrown off balance by some strange force. I couldn't have looked away for more than a second, but the next moment, the apparition was gone, and all my catapults – all at once, you understand? – were so many heaps of junk metal. When we tried to at least get the ship going, it turned out that one of the engines had exploded, even though it had been surrounded by crew and no one and nothing had been near it. I personally sifted through the remains for signs of an explosive, and there were none. Yet it exploded from the inside…"

She began to brood again.

Hesitantly, Mai asked, "Anything else we should know about its powers?"

Azula seemed to struggle with herself for a moment. "If I hear that anyone has heard –!"

They fervently reassured her that they would not tell anybody. Azula leaned in close and whispered, "When I hit it with lightning, it felt like the spirit yanked on the lightning and drained part of my power for a moment."

So that was the reason for running frightened. "If it can do that," Mai mused, "you might be able to yank back and drain power from it."

Azula inclined her head, pleased. "A good idea. Though – difficult to test."

"Yes, and misty spirits must be pretty much made of chi and nothing else," Ty Lee said. "Maybe I could use some of my techniques?"

Azula bestowed a smile on Ty Lee. Mai asked, as if casually, "Hey, Ty Lee, you've told me that the circus attracts quite a number of odd types. Think if we ask around, some of your old friends might tell us something useful?"

Ty Lee's eyes shone, but her voice was perfectly demure, "Well, it's a long shot, of course…"

Combined with the earlier conversation, it was a virtual guarantee that Azula would let them go. Now that they once again proved their usefulness to her, she grew expansive. "Not bad. Let's see my uncle try to hide behind the Blue Spirit's back now!"

Mai hadn't forgotten that, although nothing in Azula's story really pointed at Zuko, and in fact, she still couldn't explain how he could have done half those things, he was the one with the mask. "What does your uncle have to do with it?" she asked.

"Who else would do such a thing to attack me? He's had his little journey to the Spirit World, hasn't he? So sad, looking for his son." Her tone darkened. "Clever, not to let anyone know he can now call on powerful spirits for assistance." She pulled out Zuko's dagger and twirled it through her hands idly. "It won't save him, though, and his interference won't stop me, either."


	22. Exchanges

**A/N: **Thanks to the several people who gave me yet more good suggestions for improvement! This time around, many of the suggestions were about the things that'd take a long time to fix, and I'm still limited in energy, so I haven't actually made the changes yet, but I do appreciate the help (in order I received it) from Lilako, Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet, WingsOfFate, Anon, Vi-Violence, and Kally Lass. (If I missed anybody, feel free to remind me!)

**Chapter 22**

The door to the abandoned barn in which they hid grated open slowly. "Uncle, it's me." Zuko slid through the narrow gap and struggled to pull the stubborn door closed behind him.

Iroh put down his teacup, the fifth one since he'd gotten back and found that… completely inadequate… note. Even for him, that was some heavy drinking. "Are you feeling better?" he asked carefully. He was holding on to his temper, but the past few stunts had frayed it badly. He didn't even have many words to express his frustration, not in a way that could actually get through to Zuko.

"Yes… I'm not sure. Something's happened."

"What?" Iroh asked urgently. Zuko would admit he'd been wrong far more easily than he'd admit feeling unsure. The planned conversation would just have to wait.

A flat answer. "The Avatar's here."

Iroh exhaled. Destiny had a way of messing with his nephew that he didn't like at all. "What do you want to do?"

"I want to go home. You know that," Zuko said with quiet agony.

When Zuko didn't follow up on that, Iroh prompted, "And?"

"I wouldn't be the only one to pay the price of it. If I can do something to stop the drill, I should – we agreed on that. If I can't, but the Avatar can, I must not stand in his way. Maybe I even should," he struggled to speak, "help him in that."

Iroh's heart swelled with love and pride. "Listen to me, Zuko. Just as you can find your own destiny, you can build your own home."

"What's the use of that when I want the one I _have_? Anyway, the Avatar?"

_Do you really have it?_ Iroh thought, but again, didn't have the heart to say. Not when Zuko was so hurt. "I meant that you should build on a strong foundation, not one of desperation. Your conclusions lead solidly from one another, and do not need to be swayed by outside considerations."

Zuko looked a bit confused, then sat down across from him. "You know, Uncle, there were a few times when I didn't want to be the prince, or the future Firelord. Those were rare, however, because… because those were things I would have whether I did anything or not. Even after my banishment put the inheritance in question, I was still the prince. That's what you kept calling me – you tried to remind me, I think."

"That was part of it," he acknowledged.

"I liked that. I suppose it was silly to think that it could stay unearned, but I don't want to give it up either, just because it's no longer a given."

"You don't need to," Iroh said with all the conviction he felt. "You've struggled and fought – and succeeded – all your life." He'd make his own home, and then return to his former home not as a starving penitent but as a man in the fullness of his strength. Firelord Zuko. He'd be exactly what their nation needed. Iroh ached in sympathy at his nephew's simple wish to have just one thing he didn't need to struggle for, but still, what was earned instead of given became all the more true. "It is a mark of great wisdom, to put aside your own desires when it is not the right time to achieve them, although it can be a bitter wisdom indeed." He tried not to let his own bitterness seep into his voice too much. "You are out of sight right now, and answerable to no one but yourself."

* * *

><p>Katara hoped that Aang would forgive her eventually for agreeing with everyone else about leaving him behind. The look on his face after he appealed to her as his last hope… well. She hoped he would understand.<p>

It would have been easier to stand firm if she were surer that she'd earned the place on the team herself. Toph and Suki were working as a team – Toph would silently point to where people were and use hand signals to indicate how far away, and Suki would lead them from one patch of shadow to the next and cover up any traces of their passage. Suki had been the one to apply special makeup to all their faces which would make them harder to spot. Katara herself, however? If Appa were hurt, her skills would come in handy, or if worst came to worst, she'd fight, but she wasn't essential to the mission. Even the clothes she wore were a spare change of Suki's (so they would look like locals if caught).

Also, if Appa needed her, would she _really_ be able to help? She barely knew what she was doing when it came to humans. She'd try, of course. She was all they had and she'd try her best. There wasn't exactly time to go back to the North Pole to study medicine. Katara winced at herself. She'd been so pleased to make Master Pakku acknowledge her worth as a fighter that she abandoned her other studies. Why was it so easy to think that, just because she had to earn his acceptance, it was worth more than Yugoda's unstinted acknowledgement of the times she did well? Shouldn't it be the other way around? She wouldn't give up her fighting skills for the world, and healing never did excite her in the same way, but she should have followed her first instincts – that it was bad to split waterbending like that.

When she could, she _would_ resume her training with Yugoda. Katara caught herself. Surely it was "Master Yugoda," but the elder had never insisted. Katara blushed with shame at her own denseness. Yes, she would come back, and she'd bring Aang with her this time. To break down that stupid split, it wasn't enough for just women to learn fighting. The one-way change wouldn't last. It had to be two-way.

Katara broke off those thoughts because they were getting close to the circus. Where earlier, there had been a few wagons and the big tent, a whole camp of tents now sprouted behind the main one. Lanterns lit up the darkness for quite a distance around, and people moved purposefully amongst the tents.

"I can't sense him," Toph whispered, "but there are several big wooden structures over there that could be cages. I can't tell much about wood at this distance."

Suki was good, but even she couldn't make them all invisible under those conditions. After a few attempts, they retreated to regroup.

Suki whispered, "We'd probably have to wait until everyone settles down for the night to have any chance at all."

"You're the expert, Suki," Katara whispered back. "Think we can stay away from all the patrols for that long?"

Suki grimaced. "It's a big risk, but what else can we do? I think we could make it."

"Ha," Toph breathed. "I can make a small cave underground for us to hide in – an air vent is easier to hide than three bodies. Would that help?"

"It would!" Suki grinned.

With no warning, they slid down into complete darkness. There was the sound of earth shifting around, then just the sound of them breathing. Katara closed her eyes to make the darkness less unnerving. "Sorry I can't do anything to help," she whispered.

"Hm?" She couldn't tell who spoke.

Nervously, she began, "Well, you both are doing so much, and I'm doing nothing; I just… feel a bit useless."

There was the sound of smothered laughter, then Suki's voice. "I'm sorry. It's just that earlier today, I was thinking the same thing – both of you doing far more with your bending than I ever could."

"Really?" Suki didn't agree that she was useless? It made her feel better.

"I couldn't even throw my fans more than once if Aang hadn't helped me, but that's why the Kyoshi warriors always fight in a group. Different skillsets come together – and trust me, it takes some practice to fight together seamlessly, as you all do."

"Thanks, Suki," she smiled.

An inelegant snort sounded to her right. "You two ladies done moaning about your inadequacies? Shouldn't you be too old for head-pats? I know I am."

"Toph," she sighed. She knew Toph didn't mean it, but she was at a loss how to respond.

Suki wasn't. "Ah, you're all self-sufficient, I've heard. Never felt like you wanted to help but didn't have the skill, right?"

"Well, Fangirl," Toph began brashly, then trailed off. In a smaller voice, she said, "At the birth. Katara knew what to do, and you were helping, and I laughed at Sokka for fainting, but wasn't sure that if I came closer, I wouldn't faint too, from the sounds and smells."

"That's an embarrassing situation," Suki said casually.

"Shh, incoming," Toph whispered. "You're telling me. It made me feel like some kid."

Katara stopped herself from saying 'You are one' – she'd liked Aang saying it, but Toph wouldn't – and then a thought struck. "They don't make kids participate in the forced labor, do they?"

"From what Blue said, they don't," Suki whispered back.

"Then I've got a plan. We just need to check the cages, right? Toph, I know you'll hate this, but could you pretend to be a little lost girl for a bit? If you blunder in requesting help, all attention will be on you, and Suki and I can quickly sneak by."

"For a good cause, I don't mind," Toph answered brusquely. Small clods of dirt suddenly showered down on them, and Toph stifled an exclamation. A minute later, she whispered, "Sorry. Didn't account for them passing so close overhead. The ceiling should be stable for now, but we probably shouldn't linger here."

"Wait," whispered Suki. "We could get in that way, but what about getting out? They'll want to take Toph back to her parents, and it'll be suspicious when she refuses."

"Well, um," Katara faltered, then figured it out. "Toph will have to stall them for a few minutes. That should be enough for us to finish checking and sneak back around. Then I walk in pretending to be Toph's cousin, frantic at having lost her. I _think_ I can look young enough to pass."

"What if they still try to escort you?"

"We'll pretend to be grateful," Toph said, "and then run when they don't expect it. As soon as we're out of sight, I'll hide us like this again. They'll never figure it out!"

After settling a few more details, they crept out. Suki wiped away their camouflage makeup. Toph tottered into the light, her arms out and groping like she really couldn't see. Instantly, people came up to her to ask what was wrong, and she hammed it up until every head turned to stare. Katara grinned a little to herself – who knew that Toph could do that? – but focused on sneaking by instead. The two of them cut inconspicuous peepholes in tent sides and peered into every corner that looked like it might hide something Appa's size. All too soon, they ran out of places to check.

Suki leaned in and breathed, "Maybe they did manage to force him to perform." She nodded towards the big tent.

"Right, we're on it," she answered.

"I'll wait back there," Suki pointed.

Katara moved as quickly as she dared back to the entrance, and took a few huffing breaths so as to sound like she'd been frantically looking. "Lan!" she called. "Lan, where are you?"

"I'm here!" Toph called back.

Katara hurried forward into the knot of people around Toph. "Oh, thank goodness you're all right! I'm so, so sorry. Were you frightened?"

Toph sniffled bravely. "I'm okay. These people were very kind."

Katara started giving effusive thanks.

"Hey, girl," an enormously-muscled man interrupted. "It's your own fault. How you could leave a blind child alone is beyond me. Have you no sense of shame?"

Katara cringed and tried to look young and guileless. "I know, and I'm sorry. I just wanted to see the circus," she said in a small voice. "I've never seen one before."

The man growled at her again, but another interrupted. "They're just kids, and they're not the first to try to sneak a peek. What's your problem?"

"The problem is that usually, they aren't irresponsible little jerks. Even the Earth people should know _something_ about loyalty!"

The two men seemed to almost forget her and Toph as they argued amongst themselves. Katara nudged Toph with her shoulder, and with the hand behind her back, pointed first at the empty cages and shook her head no, then pointed to the tent. Toph began to wail that it wasn't her cousin's fault. "I'm the one who stupidly wandered away from the meeting place! I just wanted to hear the circus. I never get to go anywhere because I'm blind," Toph gave a half-sob, "and she's the only one who understands how boring that is."

The big man instantly changed his tune and personally led them through an inconspicuous flap into an area at the side of the stage for performers. They could see pretty much everything, including some of the acts being prepared to go on. They couldn't see Appa.

The performers were too caught up in preparation to pay much attention to the strays in their midst. Katara thought it was safe enough to whisper. They clung to each other like sisters and confirmed that Katara couldn't see, and Toph couldn't sense, Appa anywhere. The last faint hope that the larger animals weren't brought into the valley because it was too difficult to haul them over the slopes was broken when the camelephants came out to prance around the stage.

This was a disaster. Katara rehearsed ways to break the news to Aang. Nothing would soften the blow any…

"Katara, stop glooming about," Toph whispered. "It's not your fault. Try to enjoy the performance, maybe."

"What's to enjoy?"

"Some of the clowns are pretty funny," Toph grinned. "If you keep up that slump, someone is bound to notice and wonder. At least pretend."

She nodded and tried. Toph was right, there were a few good points to the performance. She'd never even imagined some of these things. Yes, it was gaudy and she didn't like many of the acts, such as when a bird was forced to fly through flaming hoops, but the casual displays of skill of the acrobats and strong men impressed her despite herself, and the music was catchy. Then, as they announced the next act – "For this night only, a stunning exhibition!" – her breath caught for a different reason. The young performer who came out of the opposite preparation area and began to go up a ladder by hooking her feet into the rungs and flipping herself upwards gracefully was _Ty Lee_. Katara remembered her very well.

"Toph," she whispered, "I think I know what happened. Appa was here, but that girl performing now – she's one of Princess Azula's hangers-on. She must've recognized Appa, and they hid him elsewhere, knowing that we'd come sooner or later."

Toph frowned. "If they're expecting us, what can we do?"

"We'll have to try to follow her when she's done here. She's seen me before, and I don't know if she'd recognize me despite the clothes change, but she doesn't know you. Distract her if you have to. I wish we could question her…"

Ty Lee's high-wire act was stunning to watch, definitely the crowning number, and after it, the show began to wind down. Unfortunately, she exited the stage on their side. Katara shifted around so she mostly had her back to Ty Lee (Toph pointed at things to give her an excuse to turn her head away a couple of times), and fortunately, that passed muster. Ty Lee wasn't that interested in a couple Earth Kingdom girls, anyway – someone saying, "kids – Maru took pity on them" satisfied her curiosity. She chatted busily with the other performers as if she hadn't seen them in a year – Katara heard them ask things like "How's life with the Princess?" The knot of people around Ty Lee moved far enough away that Katara couldn't catch much of their conversation, but she distinctly heard "Blue Spirit" and had to work hard to remember that Blue could take care of himself.

After the show, they moved outside with the rest of the performers. "I'll keep track of her for as long as I can with earthbending," Toph whispered. People streamed out of the tent, blocking their way to Suki, so they dawdled.

"Hey you," a gruff voice said. "Soldiers and little girls don't mix. This way."

It was Maru. He led them around to another, small path that wound between scraggly hedges, apparently used by the circus workers only. "It runs parallel to the main path till the second turn right," he advised. "How'd'you like our circus?"

They expressed their thanks and pleasure, with particular emphasis on how amazing it was that he could lift such heavy weights with his teeth. It was an odd sight, seeing a man that big blush pink. "Be more careful, girls," he said by way of goodbye and waved them off.

They went down the path just far enough to get out of sight, then hid, the way that Suki taught them, and waited. Whether Ty Lee settled into a tent for the night or went elsewhere, they would know. And – wonder of wonders – who should come along the path but their target? She even paused not too far from where they hid and looked around as if waiting for someone. Katara didn't wait. She nudged Toph, pointed at Ty Lee, and made a gesture as if wrapping someone up. Toph immediately created an earthen structure around Ty Lee. Their prisoner struggled, but without effect.

Toph muttered, "I don't know how long I can keep her muffled with just earth. I don't want to cut off her air accidentally."

"No problem," Katara said grimly. "Anyone coming towards us now?"

"No."

When Katara stepped forward, Ty Lee's eyes widened in recognition. Katara coated her hands with healing water and put them atop Ty Lee's head. Yugoda had spoken in passing of how patients needed to be kept unconscious sometimes. Katara was determined to get this right. Within a minute, their prisoner's eyes closed, and when Toph cautiously removed the earth, she slumped over.

A small part of Katara was going, _hah, serves you right for having blocked my waterbending,_ but she shook herself to sanity. This shouldn't be about petty revenge. It was about finding Appa. She didn't know how long Ty Lee would be out, so they dragged the unconscious girl into the shadows, tied her up, and gagged her with torn strips of cloth.

"Well, now what?" Toph asked.

"Now we take her with us for questioning."

"Um, Katara, hiding will be a lot more difficult when dragging her along."

"We can do it," Katara said in a voice that brooked no refusal. "I'll carry her for now, and Suki can spell me."

* * *

><p>Mai had had a seat only a few rows back during the show, and much good it did her. Her headache worsened every minute. Everything was too loud, too bright. She left several times to go outside and clear her head, ignoring the glares of those whom she disturbed with her passage. She didn't miss Ty Lee's performance, but the moment it was over, she escaped again without waiting for the end, and wandered as far away as she could into the darkness. The ground was mostly cleared for pasture, broken up only by the hedge-fences and the occasional tree, which made it a boring walk. She returned to the rows of tents and climbed up onto the biggest box-shaped tent she could find. She wanted to practice her balance on that kind of unpredictably-shifting surface.<p>

Thus, she was high enough above the ground to see the comings and goings for quite a distance around, even in the moonlight. When she finally saw a lone figure that had to be Ty Lee walking towards their agreed-on meeting spot, she made her way back across the fabric. She'd just reached the edge when Ty Lee's silhouette suddenly changed. Completely surprised, she squinted at the sight. The narrow cone shape was somehow familiar. When a moment later, another figure came out of the bushes near the side of the path, Mai's lips flattened in grim understanding. Sure enough, the second figure did something, and Ty Lee slumped over. A third figure joined them and together, they dragged Ty Lee away. The third figure was short but solidly built.

The earthbender girl. That was it. Those who dared hurt Ty Lee would pay. Mai itched to go after them right now, but she had to be careful. No one would be stupid enough to kidnap Ty Lee in a place swarming with firebenders without one stupendous getaway plan. Mai knew very little about tracking, so anything good enough to defeat trained soldiers would baffle her completely.

Early on during the show, there had been a round, melon-sized creature of a russet color, performing tricks of the sort where a member of the audience would be invited to hide something, and the creature would find it. How did it do that? Could it track?

They'd be moving slowly and cautiously. She had time to think it through.

When the earthbender had done that immobilizing trick before, it had taken her over half a minute to actually walk over to Mai. If that was an indication of how far away she'd been at the moment of capture, that meant… Mai had been moving quietly and carefully enough that ordinary eyesight wouldn't have picked her out at that range. At the time, she'd thought she made a mistake, but what if she hadn't? It would mean that the earthbender didn't rely on sight (and Mai remembered the milky film glistening over those eyes in the moonlight). So she had some earthbending trick to sense her surroundings, like firebenders did. That would come in handy for avoidance – more than handy. It meant that any rescue attempt would be noticed from afar, too.

Mai bit back a quiet snarl. This was unacceptable. The earthbender would be relying heavily on her talent, wouldn't she? Perhaps enough to become overconfident and not set any other watch? If she could just defeat that talent… well. What could be sensed? Could the earthbender tell that one person was moving after them specifically in a relatively crowded region?

Even if not, that didn't help much. They'd certainly take Ty Lee outside the patrolled area, to some hiding spot where no one would hear screams. Coming in with several people only meant that the enemy would keep moving to get away. It still came down to a need to somehow not be touching the ground for the earthbender to sense, and Mai couldn't fly. With cold fear, she remembered that the earthbender was with the Avatar's group.

No panicking. The big flying animal was white, easy to see even in the darkness, and Azula had tracked it before, so she could find it again. Mai hoped it wouldn't come down to Azula's involvement. In the best case scenario, Azula would never let either of them hear the end of it. In the worst, she'd be angry enough to punish them.

Not a consideration for now. An earthbender _had to_ have weaknesses. Flying attacks were the first to come to mind, but there must be more. Then it came to her. Metal. It blocked all benders' powers to an extent. She didn't have to be entirely invisible to the earthbender's senses. Just enough that she wouldn't register as a human, and therefore a signal to flee immediately. A confused earthbender, however, should pause to try to figure things out instead. That would be enough; she would make sure of that.

Ordinary metal-shod shoes probably wouldn't work; the shape of a footprint must be pretty distinctive. So. Mai slid down to the ground. In her armament, she had sixteen identical knives, and she cut a few of the leather sheaths into continuous, narrow strips. Then she cut several thin branches from the lone tree nearby. After tying three branches together at one end, she separated them and placed two knives, crossed at the hilts, inside so that the branches ended up at three of the four corners. The bottom, where the sharp blades crossed at a shallow angle, was the branchless corner. With careful weaving, she could fasten the knives to the branches and each other securely without passing over any cutting edges, then bind the three branches closed again, only to repeat the process.

In the end, what she had were two platforms, where the knife hilts formed a relatively safe surface to stand on and the edges of the blades pressed into the earth. She rounded some of the remaining pointy bits of the upper surfaces with a quick sharpstone-scrub, bound the platforms to her shoes with more leather, and tried to stand and walk. It was extremely uncomfortable footwear, it was hard to pull up from soil, and it juddered unpleasantly on rock, but she had calculated right. With her weight distributed over eight slanted surfaces per foot, the "shoes" didn't sink much more deeply into the ground than ordinary shoes, and her handiwork held.

She took them off – no sense torturing her feet until she had to – then rubbed away the clods of dirt and spread her entire stash of wax over the blades to help prevent sticking. Then she returned to the tents to ask about the creature. Since it was for Ty Lee, they happily explained that it was a foxpig; rare and hard to train, but with an extraordinary sense of smell. Cho-cho, as he was called, was well-trained. In a couple of minutes, she'd memorized the commands, and at the scene of the kidnapping, Cho-cho easily picked up on the scent.

Mai also noted that, although the earthbender had put the earth back where it had been, it was noticeably different in texture and give. If the kidnappers tried to hide their scent by moving the earth around, she could test the ground and find them that way.

They didn't seem to be that careful, though, because she only found one such attempt, and Cho-cho wasn't confused for long, anyway. After that, while their path circled around some from hiding spot to hiding spot, it was otherwise straightforward. Mai attracted quite a bit of attention from the soldiers, but many of them knew her, and Azula's name was one to conjure by. Cho-cho soon became unhappy – obviously unused to having to track anything further than the stands inside the circus. She patted him awkwardly, gave him treats (she'd had the foresight to get some from his trainer), and let him rest his paws every once in a while, so they went on.

When she crossed into the wilds, she stopped to put on the platforms and review her plan of action. Mai didn't carry poisoned weapons, since she worked out that the odds she would ever need such were far lower than the odds of an unfortunate accident for someone who constantly wore them. However, she did have four paralysis darts, ones that worked for only a minute because of the same principle. In that time, if Ty Lee was simply tied up, Mai would cut the bonds, and between them they would overpower the enemy. If, however, there were earthbending restraints again, her first priority had to be disrupting the earthbender's ability to bend. Hopefully, her minimal skills at chi-blocking would suffice until she could get the expert free. She didn't want to take more damaging measures.

She hoped dearly that Zuko wasn't with them. If he was, if he dared use Ty Lee for his schemes like that, then she would make him pay most of all.

The path ran almost straight now, zigzagging only because of the terrain. Mai didn't know how much further it was, but decided to take a risk. She slipped off Cho-cho's leash and let him run ahead. Soon, she heard the happy yips which meant that he'd found the target, and he was cute, a disarming distraction. At a fast hobble, she approached the sound. Someone was saying "Where did you come from?" in a tone which indicated more pleasure than concern. It was soon followed by the earthbender's voice – "Something's really odd."

That was her cue to put on a final burst of speed. Before the earthbender could finish her explanation, Mai got close enough to see a narrow gap sloping down between rock walls, glimpses of firelight, and two targets – threw the darts, sliced off the platforms, jumped through the gap, threw two more. (No Zuko, good.) She hurtled towards the tied-up Ty Lee (unconscious still? had to wake her or fight them all herself) only to realize that there were five people, not four. The one she didn't get, the one already moving to block her, was the Avatar himself.

The windblast knocked her off her feet, but she rolled, crouched, oriented herself, and flung a fast series of shurikens. Of course, the wind currents blew many of them off-course, and some embedded in the whirring staff with soft thunks, but she used each attempt to keep compensating till a few got through. The Avatar yelped, his hands faltered for a moment – Mai sprang. Vectors were her specialty, and she knew that the closer to the center, the less force the staff would have even when moving. Without suffering anything more than a bruising blow, her hand closed over his. Mai wrenched the staff up and sideways, and, foolishly still clinging to his weapon, he fell over.

Something struck her hard in the back – solid, then wet. The paralysis had worn off; she was out of time. The Avatar was trying to make some sort of bending motion. With her heartbeat pounding in her ears, she grabbed his wrist, swung him around, and pressed a dagger to his throat. Every noise stopped.

"Don't move," Mai warned them, almost unable to believe what she was doing. "I'm here for Ty Lee. If you don't let her go, I'll kill him." She quickly wrenched her hostage's hands up behind his back and held them there with her free hand.

There was a tense pause, four pairs of eyes staring at her. Then the earth heaved. Mai kept her feet, kept her grip, and was just about to threaten them with retribution, when she saw the real target of that maneuver. Ty Lee's unconscious body was now in the earthbender's grip, and the girl sat down and smiled insolently at her. "Well, you've got Aang, but we've got her. If you don't let him go, well. I don't need to tell you."

Mai ran a lightning-fast calculation, and swallowed. She couldn't, couldn't leave Ty Lee behind, especially not with the worst enemies of the Fire Nation, but both their lives depended on making her bluff good. "The Avatar is worth a lot. Perhaps even enough that I could just abandon my plan and take him with me. Or kill him – that'd be worth some bragging rights. By the way, if you try another attack, the knife could slip." She gave them her hardest stare.

The Avatar squeaked. The waterbender and the older boy stared at her hostage with naked anxiety. The one she hadn't accounted for was more subtle, helped by the fact that her face was painted over, but also anxious. Only the earthbender shook her head, almost pityingly.

"Toph," the waterbender hissed, "she's ruthless. Last time with a hostage, she abandoned her own baby brother without blinking." The older boy (Sokka, she suddenly remembered) cleared his throat uncomfortably.

Mai maintained her stare with everything she had. All to the good, if they thought so.

"Nah, I don't think so," Toph responded, then turned to point an accusing finger at Mai. "You're lying."

"Do you _want_ to find out the hard way?" Mai gritted.

Toph paused. "I really don't think you'd do it," she murmured, almost to herself, "but you're cornered and you're weird, so who knows. All right, be that way. The fact remains, we both have hostages. If you don't do anything rash, perhaps we can come to an agreement."

Yes, Mai was just as trapped as they were – but she and Ty Lee ran the much bigger risk if Mai gave up her advantage too quickly. "Not good enough. _What the blazes did you do to Ty Lee?!_" What an embarrassing outburst. She evened her tone. "Until you undo whatever it was, no deal."

The waterbender suddenly blushed. "Ah, well, see…"

Toph jerked a thumb back at the struggling waterbender. "Truth is, Katara was a bit overenthusiastic, and now she's not sure how to wake your friend. We were just trying to figure that out when you showed up." Her voice gentled. "We meant no harm, and we didn't hurt her. We just wanted to ask her some questions."

"No harm," Mai repeated with flat scorn.

"It's the truth!" Katara protested. "It's just a healing sleep, a little too deep, but it can only heal! Nothing else!"

"Hey," the facepaint girl said, and turned to Mai. "Perhaps _you_ know the answers to those questions. We'll let you both go if you tell us."

Mai's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why should I believe you? If we don't answer your questions, are you going to hurt her?"

They babbled various frantic denials, but those sounded thin and unconvincing. Huddled together as they all were near the fire, it was hard to keep an eye out, as they could use each other to conceal bending movements. Mai stepped back into the shadows (careful not to get too close to the rock formations around the gap by which she came; no sense making things easier for Toph). The ground sloped down from where she stood to the campfire, which gave her a slight observing advantage. If she wasn't sure about them, she'd make sure they weren't sure about her.

"Look," Katara said, "I'm going to try to wake her up again. I need to bend water around my hands for that. Will you let me do that?"

The girl sounded sincere enough, but… "If it didn't work before, why would it now? Let's try a stimulant. Nobody move."

Mai kept the dagger where it was, but bent her wrist awkwardly in order to pin the Avatar with her elbow tightly enough that he couldn't free his arms easily. A foot carefully interposed between his ensured that she could throw him to the ground quickly if he tried anything. Scanning for any sign of fight from her opponents, keeping her own movements slow and unthreatening, she let go of his wrists and pulled out a small bottle and a dart. "Catch," she said, suiting words to actions, and quickly reestablished a more secure hold on her hostage.

Katara muttered something under her breath, but followed the instructions to dip the dart and prick Ty Lee gently.

It took a few tense minutes, but eventually, Ty Lee spoke up groggily, "What?" Her eyes opened halfway, and soon after that, she began to pull against her bonds weakly. "What happened? Mai?"

"I'm here," she answered, holding her voice steady. "We're in a bit of a situation."

Ty Lee blinked hard several times and rolled into a sitting position. Katara put a warning hand on Ty Lee's shoulder.

Ty Lee's eyes finally focused. "The Avatar?" she breathed in confusion. "I don't remember seeing you… only… what's Cho-cho doing here?" The foxpig wagged his curly tail at the sound of his name and snuggled close to Ty Lee, who smiled brilliantly in return despite the situation. That was Ty Lee for you.

"They kidnapped you," Mai replied. "I came to get you out, but the odds were a bit worse than I expected. So I grabbed a hostage, but they got you. Now we're at an impasse."

A look of understanding flickered across Ty Lee's face; then she did what she did best, and broke into a peal of laughter. "I can tell everyone I got held hostage along with the Avatar! How many people can say that?!" she squealed.

Mai watched in satisfaction as the kidnappers struggled to adjust to Ty Lee's unique outlook on the world. Keep them off balance, good. "Look, Ty Lee," she drawled, "I know you're having fun and all, but I'd like to get back soon."

"Aw, do we have to?" she giggled. Mai gave her a look, then jerked her gaze subtly sideways, to indicate that Ty Lee should start working to get away from the fire slowly. If Ty Lee just put a bit of distance between herself and her captors, Mai might be able to swoop in and get her quickly enough to catch them off-guard.

"H-hey, not to rush you or anything, but perhaps we _could_ get a move on?" her hostage spoke up for the first time. His words were slow at first, as if he was shaking off his shock, but then picked up to a forced cheerfulness. "This is sort of a familiar situation for me, and I do hope it ends well again."

A look of guilt flashed across Katara's face before her expression hardened. "Right. What did you do to Appa?"

"I've never heard that name before," Mai answered flatly.

"My flying bison," the Avatar explained, his voice wavering between plaintiveness and anger.

She exchanged a confused look with Ty Lee, who shifted in her bonds as if very uncomfortable, which allowed her to move away unobtrusively a little bit at a time. "We haven't seen your bison since we fought with you last."

Katara growled, "Liar. You had him at the circus! Where did you take him?!"

"She isn't lying," Toph said with a strange confidence.

Katara turned on her companion, but before she could say anything else, Ty Lee spoke up brightly. "Oh! I think I know who you're talking about. The gossip around the circus was that our chief trainer had to be left behind with several broken bones after one of his new animals escaped during a performance, just a couple days ago. They said they didn't know how it could fly, being huge and heavy, much less toss the trainer quite that far."

Katara and Sokka exchanged a shocked glance. "Escaped?" he repeated suspiciously.

"He's escaped!" the Avatar repeated joyfully, then sounded frightened. "But why hasn't he come back, then?"

"Perhaps because they _are_ hiding him," the facepaint girl said with a hard, measuring stare. Sokka threw a quick smile at the girl and added, with menace, "Right, if you know anything else, now's the time to say so."

Like the last time he'd tried the threatening route, he wasn't that convincing. "Or what? You'll kill us?" she challenged.

"No!" the Avatar cried out in frustration and tried to twist his head back to look up at her. (She quickly put paid to the attempt, since he could easily catch the skin of his neck on the dagger that way.) "We're not like you. We don't kill people."

"Yeah," Sokka nodded, "we're the good guys here."

Mai rolled her eyes. "Seriously? You kidnap a girl who was just minding her own business, you knock her unconscious, you drag her to a secluded location, and you're the _good guys_?"

"It does look bad, I admit," Katara wrung her hands, "but we couldn't have done anything else. You'd have captured _us_ if we tried for a civil conversation inside your territory. That's the only reason we brought her out here."

The only? She gave the waterbender an unimpressed look. "I don't believe you." Ty Lee couldn't wriggle about all the time without causing suspicion, and right now, she was taking the necessary but frustrating break. At this rate, it would take a long while.

"It's the truth," Katara replied in frustration. In a low tone, probably meant only for her companions, she added, "Never thought I'd have any sympathy for Zuko."

Mai inhaled, but kept her voice to a bored monotone. "What about Zuko?"

"Why do you want to know?" Katara challenged.

"Curiosity," she replied flatly.

"Ha, of course she wants to know! She's Zuko's girlfriend," Sokka said.

"What? How do you know that?!" the Avatar asked.

"Wow, Mai, I didn't realize you got that far already." Ty Lee couldn't ever resist teasing. "That was some quick work."

"Shut up," she sighed. At that moment, a column of earth suddenly sprouted up right underneath her hostage; it would have wrenched him upwards out of her arms if she hadn't kept a secure grip all this time and wasn't quick enough to jump away. "You do that again, and you'll have more excitement than you can handle," she hissed at Toph.

"Can't blame me for trying, can you?" the girl answered. Mai opened her mouth to disabuse her of the notion, but at the moment, Katara's arm shot out to drag Ty Lee back to her previous spot, and she and Toph exchanged a triumphant look. Toph spoke with satisfaction. "Do you want some excitement yourself so badly?" she challenged Mai.

Mai kept her face carefully blank. "I'm always bored and looking for excitement," she said with a demonstrative sigh. "This isn't it, however." Ty Lee gave her a quick, encouraging smile and a quicker glance sideways – Mai nodded at her subtly. Yes, if she could do so safely, Ty Lee should try again. Her captors' vigilance had to run out sometime.

"Thanks for trying, Toph," the Avatar said, "but we should try to settle this peacefully. Let's all just calm down, okay? Sokka, you still haven't explained."

Now everyone stared at her with curiosity as Sokka talked about their previous meeting. "So I followed to make sure she wouldn't do anything. She didn't; she just brought some stuff for Zuko. They didn't even talk much, but they were holding _hands_ and all," he sounded scandalized, "so that's how I know."

"Leave Mai alone," Ty Lee reproached him. "Their first reunion in three years, and you're complaining about hand-holding?" She then turned accusing eyes on Mai. "And you didn't tell me that part! You _never_ talk about the good stuff."

"Ty Lee, did I ask you to gossip about my private life? That doesn't make me want to tell you more. What makes you think this is a good topic _now_, anyway?"

A gleeful smirk crossed Toph's face. "No, no, I want to hear all the details."

"No," Mai said stonily, but Ty Lee's voice drowned her out, "She has it bad. One time –"

Okay, Ty Lee was trying to distract her captors, but if she wasn't careful, the topic would distract _Mai._ She had the feeling that Toph had somehow picked up on that, and planned to use it to her full advantage. "Shut up!" she snapped at Ty Lee. "I still want to know why Zuko's been mentioned in this context."

Katara seemed to be fighting down amusement. "Well, since you're worried about your boyfriend and all, why not? At one point, Zuko kidnapped Aang, and when we caught up to him, he claimed that he'd only done it because he wanted to talk, and couldn't do that in enemy territory. I said to him much the same thing you did, with the same results. Except that I'm telling the truth."

"I don't know," the Avatar said. "I still say he sounded pretty sincere to me."

Mai let the corner of her mouth curl slightly. "Right. What would he and you talk about?"

"He said he wanted to negotiate a truce."

Mai met Ty Lee's wide-eyed glance and tried to shake off her foreboding. This was surreal enough that the Avatar was probably reporting accurately. Of course, it probably wasn't what it looked like, but if even rumors had gotten back to… "You may not want to repeat that," she warned him stonily.

"What? Why?" he sounded genuinely confused. Of course, he wouldn't care what kind of trouble he got Zuko into.

"Just don't," she snapped.

"I don't understand," he protested again. "It's not like anything happened. In fact, the next time we saw him, he was completely against the idea. Said that he wouldn't consider it after what happened at the North Pole. It's too bad; we wouldn't mind being able to actually find _someone_ in the Fire Nation who's capable of negotiation. Even General Iroh wouldn't do it."

Mai hadn't stopped his flow of words because her blood had run cold. At that moment, the earth heaved beneath her feet again, but she yanked her prisoner upwards by the waist just in time and kept her balance. She glared at Toph. "Next time, I'm slicing his throat open."

"Whoops, that was an accident," Toph said cheerily. It sounded like she was laughing at Mai. No wonder. This was the third time, and she hadn't done anything to retaliate – of course they wouldn't take her seriously anymore. She let her hand shift slightly, enough to nick the skin. A small trickle of blood started; it would look impressive for a couple of minutes.

"Whoops," she deadpanned.

Toph made a placating gesture. "Sorry." She still didn't look afraid, however, not like the others.

"Thanks, Toph," the Avatar didn't sound very thankful anymore. "Don't take it out on me! Why is it so bad to tell what happened, anyway?"

"Because," she spoke in a clipped tone, "what you're saying is that Zuko would ever seriously consider betraying his country and everyone he knows, risk his freedom and quite possibly his life – for a little bozo like you."

"See, Aang?" Katara said. "Even his girlfriend thinks it was a trick."

"No, that's not what I'm thinking," Mai said tersely. They stared at each other, at a loss, until Mai caught a glimpse of motion from Toph. "Don't even think about it, don't even breathe too deeply," Mai said levelly. Toph assumed a look of injured innocence, but Mai wasn't fooled. Keeping a close eye on her, she said to Ty Lee, "If it's true, Zuko _will_ give me an explanation, next I see him. In the meanwhile, we have other concerns."

"Right," Ty Lee nodded firmly. "You know, yesterday…"

"Yeah." Ty Lee meant, of course, that Zuko hadn't acted like a traitor. Had, in fact, swallowed his pride to give Azula his news. And yet… his odd behavior, the fact that he had most likely sabotaged the drill… She shook those doubts off.

"What's going on?" the facepaint girl asked with genuine curiosity. "How is a potential truce discussion akin to horrible betrayal?"

"In itself, it's not," Mai answered, "but it's suspicious, because it doesn't fit well with the Firelord's plans. He is – intolerant – of any deviation."

"Especially when it comes from his family," Ty Lee interjected, and wriggled again.

With an effort, Mai didn't shudder at the reminder. "Yes. He has his spies, and you obviously have big mouths, and therefore, Zuko should have avoided any suggestion of being willing to treat with you like the plague. Since he didn't, one of the possible explanations is that he really did become a traitor. Not that it's at all likely."

"I'll say," Sokka snorted. "He's been causing us trouble since day one, and we never do seem able to shake him off for long, even when any sane person would give up."

Toph added, "You know, it strikes me that you two have actually been more critical of the Firelord in the past minute than Zuko has ever been. But soothing as that might be to your worries, it makes me very curious. This loyalty thing I keep hearing mentioned – you're fairly loyal Fire Nation citizens, right?"

"I think so," Ty Lee said brightly.

Sokka said, "They work for Azula – or with, whatever. If they're not, who is?"

"Exactly," Toph said. "Despite some criticism – well-earned, it sounds like – you are. May I ask what Firelord Ozai has done to earn such trust?"

Mai glanced helplessly at Ty Lee, who tried to spread her hands only to be caught by the ropes. Why would this ever need explaining? "He's the _Firelord_," was the best way she could phrase it. "He has the whole of our nation's wellbeing in his hands. In the end, the success of our people rests with him, and he has carried out this responsibility, so we owe him our loyalty."

"I get that," Toph sounded exasperated. "You have to trust that he will rule well. My question is, do you follow his orders because you trust him, or because you're afraid of the consequences for those _deviations_ you mentioned?"

Mai ignored the obvious provocation. "We don't have any orders from the Firelord to follow. Why would he bother with us?"

"Perhaps because you're friends with his daughter and one of you is his son's girlfriend?" Katara said sarcastically.

"I just said, Firelord Ozai has the country to run," Mai replied. "His attention isn't normally attracted by such trifles." She spoke flatly, without any hint of the bitterness that the father Zuko adored could barely be bothered to speak with his children, even in the old days.

Katara's eyes widened. "Seriously? His children's friends are trifles?"

"Remember the audience thing?" Sokka told her.

"Right," Katara sighed heavily. "I should have expected it. No wonder you're so horrible to the other nations, since you're all horrible to each other."

Mai tried to parse that for a few moments. "That has so many bad assumptions, I don't know where to begin correcting them."

"Yeah," Ty Lee chimed in with an unusual belligerence. "Mai has been working hard to rescue me, against bad odds. Do you call that being horrible?" She twisted around widely to glare at them. Sideways like this, it still looked as if she was quite close because of her feet extending towards her captors, when actually, she could tuck up her knees and twist and roll from that position if she needed to.

Katara looked uncertain, but didn't actually respond.

"I think we've just had a vivid demonstration that the other nations don't understand about loyalty, since they're asking such idiotic questions about the Firelord," Mai said. "Maybe they twist it around in their minds to something different."

"Looks like it," Ty Lee sighed.

"No, wait," Toph said. "Let me ask you this. Who do you want to become the next Firelord?" She clasped her hands behind her head in a casual gesture.

"Zuko should," Mai answered tersely. "Hands where I can see them." Toph shrugged and wriggled her fingers in the air as if it were all a game.

Ty Lee giggled. "No surprises there! But I agree." She bent down as if to stretch her back, which actually allowed her to wriggle back a bit more when she sat back up without looking suspicious.

"Not Azula, your good friend?" Toph probed.

Mai closed her eyes for a second. Why were they trying such silly questions for a distraction? In an exasperated monotone, she said, "You can call me biased, but I do prefer the one who's been working himself into exhaustion over learning to be a good ruler since he was nine and his father unexpectedly assumed the throne."

"What about you, Ty Lee?" Toph asked in a friendly manner, and began to pick her teeth. Mai realized her attention had been captured by the flashy earthbender, and sternly made herself look at all of them. Just in time, it seemed – Katara was leaning over her waterskin suspiciously. Mai glared at her till she sat up.

"Same," Mai heard Ty Lee admit. "Azula is a friend, but she spends her energy on perfecting her firebending, not her rulership skills."

"That's not exactly right – what about her skills at directing people?" Mai protested and took the opportunity for another quick glance. Ty Lee was making slow but steady progress.

"True, that's one," Ty Lee smiled.

"So," Toph said, "you both prefer Zuko because you think he'd do a better job. Not because you owe him more loyalty than her or some such."

"Well, of course," Mai answered. "What, do you think we check our brains at the door?"

"It certainly seems that way when we look at the Fire Nation," Sokka commented bitterly.

Mai gave him a level glare. It took some time, but he was the first to avert his eyes.

She then paused to assess the situation again. With all this chatting, the others had gone fairly relaxed, but Ty Lee had had to pause again. Come to think of it, even her hostage had relaxed against her, and that was an old trick – to sag, and then suddenly throw yourself forward. She made sure her feet were planted solidly and spoke up. "So, we've answered your questions. Are you going to keep your word and let us go?"

"Even _if_ you answered truthfully, you've hurt Aang!" Katara protested, "and you're still threatening him. We'll let your friend go only after you let ours go first."

"I should trust you because…?" she inquired sarcastically. "If you're so bent on making this a straight hostage exchange, you let her go first. You outnumber us, after all."

Katara bit her lip and threw a glance at the Avatar. He spoke back, "It's okay, Katara. I think it might be safe enough to do it that way."

"I don't know, Aang. We should try to make it more of a certainty."

Toph's head snapped up, and she spoke up to argue, but her arguments were odd. Unlike her previous blunt statements, these seemed needlessly convoluted. Despite that, the overall atmosphere in the enemy group became lighter. Hopeful? The reactions didn't quite match the ongoing argument. Mai suspected them of using private signals, but couldn't decipher them. She braced for anything, and looked over to Ty Lee with a slightly questioning expression. Ty Lee shook her head to indicate she found it odd, too.

Suddenly, Ty Lee's eyes widened, looking up at something over Mai's head. Her only other warning was the slight movement of air, and though she instantly shifted aside, it didn't help. In the next second, both of her wrists were seized and twisted, forcing her to release her grip on the Avatar, who didn't seem to have been expecting it, either, judging by the way he stumbled forward. Katara wasted no time but yanked him into their group and hugged him tightly, but Mai only noted these things with the back of her mind. Almost instantly, she understood who it must be. Without changing her facial expression, she flared with cold anger. He had better have a really, really good explanation for doing this to her.

To her relief, he didn't disappoint her. Wrenching one of her hands behind her back as before, he used the concealment to again conspire with her, though with much longer pauses between the signals than usual. She tapped back her agreement and let him manhandle her closer to the group, while she sagged in his grip as if defeated. He'd seen the same thing she had – that they were all bunched up close together, while Ty Lee had worked her way to the side. A few steps, and they were close enough. He slackened his hold subtly; she turned her hands, grabbed his wrists, and threw him over her head right into the huddle, where he sprawled and did his best to maximize the chaos under the guise of trying to get up.

Mai grabbed Ty Lee and sliced open the ropes in a few quick movements. Then they ran.

Ty Lee turned her head back when they cleared the entrance gap and gave a piercing whistle. Cho-cho bounded up beside her; the perfect excuse. "Ty Lee! Take him back and wait for me there. Don't talk to anyone about what happened."

"What about you?!" Ty Lee called back as they ran.

"I'll make sure they don't catch us again!"

Ty Lee slowed down to run beside her. "Shouldn't I do that? Chi-blocking is more effective against powerful benders."

"But it's not long-range. I can handle myself better," she snapped.

Ty Lee looked unhappy. "We could face them together."

"Azula must be getting antsy about us by now. Just in case she sends someone to check, at least one of us has to get there as soon as possible, and you have the better excuses." Ty Lee could even claim she lost track of time and be believed.

The potential wrath of their friend was a powerful motivator. Ty Lee nodded and ran faster. Soon, she disappeared from sight.

Mai, who had always been more of a sprinter than a long distance runner, couldn't keep up her pace. So she wasn't that surprised to hear running footsteps behind her, and could only hope the plan worked. When the sound got close and then fell carefully back again, she was sure she was safe.

"Is this outside the earthbender's range?" she gasped as quietly as she could.

"Not sure," his voice floated towards her. "A little longer."

She heard him cough from time to time; so he wasn't being slow entirely on purpose. What was wrong?

"I think that's far enough," he wheezed eventually.

Mai gratefully sank down onto the nearest fallen log. She even ignored the fact that it probably had all sorts of nastiness on it. In moments, he caught up to her and pulled off his mask. She could see him struggling to breathe, the dark bruises over most of his face, and all the sharp words with which she intended to begin faded from her mind. Silently, she patted the space next to her and let him wrap his arm around her and lean on her shoulder while he caught his breath.

* * *

><p>As soon as he could speak normally, Zuko asked anxiously, "Are you okay, Mai?"<p>

"I'm fine." Her tone hinted at held-in anger.

He rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm sorry – I couldn't think what else to do. And if you're fine, then what's that?" he gestured at the spot under her ribs where he'd felt a bulky pad of cloth. That was definitely not normal.

"Did you know they'd kidnap Ty Lee?" she asked in the same tone.

"No, I had no idea. You still haven't answered."

She measured him with a glance, and her tone softened just slightly. "It's nothing important. Just a heating poultice. I get stomach cramps sometimes, and it helps."

"That bad?!" Her parents should be put on trial, they really should.

"No, no. In fact, I can eat anything I want, these days, and they can say nothing about it." Her lips quirked into a humorless smile, and she pulled away. "This isn't the time, Zuko. Later. Right now, tell me the truth. What are you doing, and why?" Then she added, more worriedly, "Also, where did you get so many bruises since yesterday?"

He did his best to explain. She was sympathetic at first, then skeptical. "I understand about wanting to protect your uncle and mother, and even about making sure that the war is fought on honorable terms, but why shouldn't Azula attack Ba Sing Se? There's nothing dishonorable about that, not with how much hard work has gone into attempts at conquest, and you just destroy all that? Don't you want your own nation to win anymore?"

This cut him deeply, not the least because he'd been afraid of going too far himself. His conversation with Uncle had been reassuring at first (at least until Uncle started in on the lecturing), but later, he'd started wondering just why Uncle accepted the possibility of him working with the Avatar so easily. Why did he argue so vehemently that their first priority should be Zuko's supposed "safety"? Could Azula actually be right? He couldn't rid himself of the needling doubt.

"It's not like that! Just… Mai, I've been thinking a lot." This was it. If she disapproved… He formed each sentence carefully. "What do we even gain by conquering Ba Sing Se, compared to the cost? It's not like we need those particular fields and houses. Why shouldn't there be at least one place in the world where people who don't want to become part of the Fire Nation can live? We spend so much time and effort on ensuring that _everyone_ does, but why? Why fear them and punish them so? We're supposed to be ambassadors of a better future for everyone, not destroyers and jailers."

She exhaled, and after some moments, touched his shoulder briefly. "I see. Perhaps it's excessive, but what if they plot amongst themselves to destroy us? Isn't that a reason to fear them all gathering in the same place?"

"Right," he admitted, "but…" He told her all his doubts – from the very real and incompensable cost to both the other nations and their own, to just how much the history taught in the Fire Nation didn't match what he learned when actually speaking to those of other nations. "I mean, how would we know the truth? I'm so confused. Someone's lying, and it seems like our side has more reason to lie than theirs."

"That's a serious accusation," she said, but she was listening carefully all the same.

Heartened by the way she didn't recoil from him in the disgust owed a traitor, he elaborated on the proofs he'd seen, and she began to look very thoughtful. "Do you see what I mean, about what we were told not adding up?"

"Yes. But…"

Something occurred to him suddenly. "Mai – listen. We were told that the Air Nomads stole children, but if so, then why didn't we try to free those children? Everyone would have supported us in that. Instead, we killed them all."

Mai put her hand over her mouth and looked at him in horror. "That's," her voice came out in a croak. "That's true. _Why_ did I never think of that?"

"_I_ should _really_ have thought of it earlier."

For once, she didn't try to hide her feelings, but looked as sick as he felt. "But how…? Who benefits from this? You're right that our nation has exhausted itself fighting this war. Why, if there's not a good reason?"

"I don't know," he answered helplessly. "I can't think of a reason, either. I… I don't want to accuse… wrongly… maybe I just misunderstood something. I've been away so long, and I've only ever attended one War Council… but I just want to make sure we're not making a horrible mistake!"

"I understand. It seems _wrong_ to question it," she said. "If we care about our nation, it's important to do our part to help, in any way we're told by the proper authorities. Individual people can't see the larger picture, after all."

"Right." Why state the obvious?

She began to pick her words with visible care. "Ordinary citizens are loyal to their superiors, up to the Firelord. He's the one who holds the whole picture in his head, though he has many advisors to help him compose it. His loyalty is to the Fire Nation as a whole, not to any one person."

He nodded, still unsure of where she was going.

"Your case," she slowed down even more, "is different. You owe him a son's loyalty, too. Part of that… is your duty to learn how to become a good Firelord yourself." She looked up at him uncertainly. "So it… seems to me… that if you were more loyal to him as the Firelord than as your father… you would actually be failing the Fire Nation. For once you became Firelord yourself, you would need to create your own image for our country, and if you only used the previous Firelord's –"

"– it would be badly outdated and not fit the best interests of our Nation anymore," he finished the thought. "I – I never thought of that. I've been struggling so much with how to reconcile those two things, and you – thank you." Was _that_ the reason Uncle had been so unconcerned? He squeezed her hand tightly, because the words alone seemed too bare.

"If I helped, I'm glad," she said with a slight blush.

He wrapped his arm back around her, and she didn't push him away, but did the same. "You should know," she said soon after, "that Azula suspects your uncle of having called on the Blue Spirit. An actual spirit, that is. If it's all just trickery on your part, she's fooled for now, but she won't be forever."

He explained that the real Blue Spirit _was_ somehow involved in this, too, and seemed to be occasionally watching him without his knowledge (he thought, and really hoped, it wasn't the case right now). She nodded as if unsurprised, and sighed. "I wish we had time to talk about this in detail, but neither of us can afford to make people suspicious of where all this time had gone. It seems you have both the duty and the ability to investigate the actions taken for our nation. I'll try to find out more myself, as much as I can. But please – be careful." She gave him a pained look. "It may be an unavoidable confusion, but you're never at your best when confused – remember when you had to hide out from your own guards for three days? Promise me you won't make any irretrievable decisions."

"I can promise that," he told her. "What good would it do me to find out something, and then ensure that no one will listen to me?"

She nodded silently.

"I'll never betray the Fire Nation," he felt the need to underscore that.

"That's obvious." She smiled unguardedly and leaned over to kiss him.

As good as that felt, he couldn't spare it his full attention, because his mind began to clamor. _Ask her! _ "Mai," he would have held his breath, if it didn't make speech impossible, "would you be my girlfriend? I know we barely ever get the opportunity to meet, and hardly any privacy when we do, and mmph!" She'd kissed him hard, for just a second, then pulled back. She was glaring – he'd made her unhappy – why did he have to ask, of course she wouldn't want –

"Zuko," she interrupted his panic, "I thought that question had already been settled, given what we've been doing. You honestly couldn't tell?" She sounded indignant, but not angry.

"I wanted for a long time! but I didn't want to presume –"

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I told you I wasn't with anyone. Even the Avatar's group picked up on our relationship. You're the only one this dense."

"You meant… it's a yes? Mai?"

She rolled her eyes, but seemed to be fighting back another smile. "Get on with accepting it already, or I'm going to believe that you're questioning it so much because you don't actually want us to be together."

"Oh, Spirits, no, that's not what I meant at all!" He took a deep breath. "But you knew that. There isn't anyone else for me, either. I just – you could do so much better."

She held up a hand. "Can we make an agreement? You'll stop putting yourself down as a suitable boyfriend all the time, and then we can actually get to being a couple for the five minutes we have left today."

With slow dawning wonder, it occurred to him exactly how right she was. "Agreed," he breathed out, then pulled her in.

They tried to not get carried away too much, but still separated only when they fell over onto the ground. All he could think about was that if fifteen minutes were this good, despite wasting time on clumsiness… "Okay," Mai managed after a little bit. "We do have to go." She sounded wistful – flatteringly so. "Have to pretend nothing happened – that's going to be difficult."

"Mmm." He tried pulling his arm away from around her. "Everything about this is difficult."

She brushed debris out of his hair as if she didn't want to stop touching him, either. "We'll manage. First step – not walking into any trees on the way back."

"Okay." He smoothed her hair out for her in turn, thinking all the time about how easy it would be to just lean in, and continue what they'd started… but in order to have a next time, and even more next times, they had to end this one.

Neither of them wanted to say official goodbyes; they just squeezed each other's hands one last time and turned to go.

After he reassembled his disguise, experience helped him get his body to sort-of settle, but he struggled to keep his thoughts in check. He was supposed to be coming back from a failed attempt to correct his "accidental" mistake in letting Mai and Ty Lee get away. He couldn't daydream so obviously in front of the others. He had to stop, now.

Seriously, now.

But even the memories of supposedly-innocuous things, like her hand sweeping down his back (gentle, careful not to catch her sharpened nails in the cloth), made him shiver, and he couldn't keep his mind from straying. Remembering. Imagining what they could do with more time and fewer clothes and weapons in the way. Hoping.

He didn't walk into a tree, because he caught himself when he was about two inches away from it.

_Think of something else, anything else._

The war. That was a sure mood-killer. Even that, however, brought back to mind the conversation he'd just had with her, and from there…

It amazed him just how much she trusted him, even liked him – it would have made him giddy even without what came later. Both those things together – well, perhaps he didn't stand a chance to keep his calm. At least the mask hid the small smile he couldn't seem to stop.

He tripped and fell, ready to blame it on his inattention, but when he sat up, rock shifted around his wrists and ankles, pinning him into place. From the darkness of the trees, Toph stepped out. She seemed alone, but this couldn't be good.

It wasn't. "Nice to see you again, Zuko," she said with provoking casualness. "Care to explain yourself?"


	23. Between One World and Another

**A/N: **Thanks to the people who keep me on my toes! :-) I believe this time, it was Somariel, OmniSchreiber, Kimberly T., Mafalda157, Gerro, Calimie, and Charmed-Ravenclaw. Most of the edits have been small ones still, usually for clarity, and the rest for issues like consistent name spelling, including one thing which I can't believe it took me 23 chapters to notice – in Ch. 1, Sokka can't possibly be asking about letters when their writing system _doesn't have them_. There shouldn't be anything story-changing (with the possible exception of replacing the unfortunate "waking up" phrasing in Ch. 2, which caused some readers to wonder if Zuko had a split personality, with what I actually meant, closer to roleplaying), but for the record, the affected chapters are 1, 2, 7, 14, 19, and 22.

**Chapter 23**

Toph didn't allow Zuko's heartrate to slow down before she pressed her attack again. "By the way, you should know that I can tell when you're lying, so don't try."

Oddly enough, he straightened up as much as he could with both hands on the ground behind him. "Can you really? Then why are you only confronting me now?"

Hm, seemed that what he said about firebending defense was true in more than one way. "Don't flatter yourself. I had suspicions from the first, but not enough evidence. Now I do."

She could feel the intense curiosity, but he didn't ask. The silence stretched a little too long for her liking. "So you're running around all masked-up and pretending to be a good friend to your enemies. Would you call that normal?" He stayed stubbornly silent, so she answered for him. "No, you wouldn't. I haven't told them yet, but give me one reason why I shouldn't drag you back there."

"You've obviously decided your course of action, so why should I give you anything?" The tension of his set and determined posture overlaid everything else, which made him less easy to read than before. She gave him what she knew was a disturbing stare, one that often made people start talking out of sheer nervousness. He faced her and was probably staring right back. One benefit of being blind – people who tried that couldn't outlast her. Except here they were, and time was passing, and she couldn't sense so much as the usual little quakes from him. Just more of that determination.

She squashed her own flicker of self-doubt. Just because she never faced down a real firebender before… Direct attacks didn't work; no problem. She made a chair for herself out of earth, both to sprawl comfortably since this could take a while, and to have an excuse to rest her hands on rock for maximum accuracy. The key was to keep probing till she found a soft spot, then dig. "Well, if you won't tell me, a few explanations come to mind, especially after our chat with Mai just before you arrived."

"Mai?" he blurted, then obviously regretted giving that much away.

"Funny, she had much the same reaction to hearing your name mentioned," she said, and felt him squirm a bit. "It came up because Katara noted some similarities to what happened at the North Pole. Where, incidentally, you were openly willing to talk to your enemies." Guilt, a muted kind of anger, and regret practically radiated off him. "Which you regretted soon after, and yelled as much at Aang. Except that here you are, with a mask on, talking to them." Barely any reaction, despite her catching him in the contradiction. "Mai was so worried about what could happen to you, she tried to order Aang to keep quiet." Ooh, warm feelings. Plus some confusion. "This, while rescuing her friend, after somehow managing to get the jump on _us_. That's some girlfriend you've got." Warmer and warmer, with complete agreement.

"After three years apart," she continued, "you probably don't want to mess up your chances. Wouldn't pay to let anyone find out that you're helping your enemies and betraying your nation."

Anger. "That's not how it is." Got him! _Toph, you rule!_

"How is it?" she inquired in her friendliest tone.

He stiffened instantly and didn't answer. Work down the drain, but the approach was right. "I do wonder what Iroh thinks about all this," she mused. "He seemed quite broadminded to me, so maybe he approves," a tension at the side of his neck indicated that he'd stopped himself from shaking his head no, "but on the other hand, it can't be easy on him, having a nephew who acts like this." A quickly muted reaction, but there had maybe been some guilt in it. "Where is Iroh, anyway?"

"Safe." He felt angrier than the question warranted, and a bit fearful. Why?

"I'm glad. He was nice to me, and I like him a lot," acceptance, shaded with affection. "I guess I'm not the only one. How's his injury?"

"Much better," he said, with lessening tension. "It still bothers him, but looks like it will finish healing in another couple of weeks."

"Excellent. Now, are you still giving him grief?"

He choked. "Excuse me?"

"He spends all his time worrying about you. Personally, I can't see why. So do you ever make it easier on him?"

Whoa, unexpected hit! Guilt, anger, guilt, and more guilt. "It's not like I _try_ to worry him. He doesn't even know about me doing this. He's just… he's impossible to please that way. I tried, believe me. It's never good enough, I can't ever get him to believe that I can take care of myself or that anything I do is safe!" In a smaller voice, he added, "I know how it sounds – like I'm completely ungrateful – I just wish he wasn't so overprotective!"

Oh, didn't she know _that_ one, intimately. On recovering, she said, "I thought he was reasonable."

"He's not really _un_reasonable, but… I mean, I can't blame him, but really, it's too much."

"Why can't you blame him, if it's like that?" she asked. Should've made her tone friendlier.

"Because I know how hard it was on him to lose his son," he answered anyway.

She startled, her hands falling to her sides. "Iroh had a son?"

"You really didn't know? I thought you might be taunting him with it, when you asked about the siege."

"No, I didn't know, but I should've… oh. That lesson would've been a couple of years after the siege." She sucked her lip in thoughtfully. "That explains so much," including Zuko's odd reaction to the location question. She felt the urge to find Iroh and share some tea with him and maybe kinda apologize for bringing up something like that so awkwardly. "He doesn't like to talk about it, huh?"

"_Sometimes_ it's okay. That was a bad time."

"Should've figured that out myself," she muttered. Iroh's son – seriously. Zuko was probably right about the overprotectiveness, then. _"The news,"_ he'd euphemized it, so he hadn't been anywhere near, but still knew all about Iroh's reaction, enough to sympathize deeply. "Ohh… that was the cousin you saw in the swamp, right?"

"Yes, Lu Ten," Zuko sounded wistful.

"You said something about how Iroh wouldn't have been in his current circumstances if he hadn't decided to help you. What was that about, then?"

"Just what it sounds like. I was the one exiled. He was supposed to be enjoying his retirement, like he deserved, but he came with me, and you know how that turned out."

"Yeah. Badly," she said, more acrid than she'd meant to sound. Luckily, he wasn't offended. Keep it friendly; he'd sure softened up quick. But when she put on the right tone of voice and asked, "So after all that, what are you doing here instead of with him?" he went blank and silent again. Over her next few attempts, he went more and more _disinterested_. How on earth could anyone feel that, here?

She _hated_ being confused. "Aren't you going to even try to convince me to let you go?"

"What good would that do?" he sounded genuine.

"Oh, I don't know. I hear freedom is nice."

"You're going to tell them either way. If I'm there to argue my case, a faint chance is better than none."

_You just slipped up, Zuko. Ha._ He wouldn't explain to her, but he would to them, even after they found out. Planning on using some of that stored-up goodwill towards Blue, was he? For what? She'd probe around that, this time.

"Nevermind, then. Want to know how I figured it out?" Yep, he did, but wouldn't say it. She got back into her comfortable sprawl. "I already thought it was you because of all the similarities, so I paid close attention just now. You freed Aang, but after, when everyone was busily relieved and checking to see if Aang was okay, _you_ were focused – very keenly – on the foe, and being gentle with her, because that's who you cared about more. Enough proof right there. Also, such a dramatic rescue going to waste with one little mistake? It's almost as if you wished to get those two out without injury and without casting suspicion on yourself."

She smirked at his reaction. "As if I needed any more confirmation, hey, what's that? You're communicating by touch with the enemy – nice going, by the way, assuming that everyone relies on their eyes –"

"How did you know that was a code? I specifically tried to make it seem random and accidental because I didn't assume!"

"How nice. Sorry, but no amount of randomness would hide the way you were reacting to each other." Obvious embarrassment. "Yeah, you got it. How peculiar it is for your captive to suddenly become happy just because you were shifting your grip on her in odd ways. And we'd just heard _all_ about who Mai's boyfriend was, so it was fresh on my mind. By the way, you really should've done a better job explaining why you felt compelled to chase after them. I wasn't the only one who found it way suspicious. The others were getting all _worried_ about you, too. That's when I volunteered to search for you."

He focused on her intently for a few heartbeats, and then she could almost hear an "Ooh!" going off in his mind. "So _that's_ it," he said. "You took all this trouble to come and gloat, and I'm not being gloatable enough?" He sounded amused, with something else mixed in that she couldn't tease out.

She snorted. "I'm figuring out what to do with you, so cutesy ridiculous remarks don't help your case."

"Oh, really. Either turn me in or let me go – those are your options, but you won't take either. You beat me, but you still want something from me. What could a helpless prisoner like me possibly provide?" Yep, way, way too amused, and too confident, and that odd thing too. He knew, oh, he knew how frustrated she was by his silence.

"Fine, you want to play it that way? I'll keep asking what you're doing here, till you answer. You're not going to outstubborn an earthbender."

"Okay, I'll answer," he said, suddenly peaceable. "I, uh, er… hmm… uh, accidentally mixed up the Avatar's group with somebody else on my way to a costume party. Yeah, that's right! Now I'm too embarrassed to reveal the silly mistake, and –"

"Seriously, that's your best try? Even without my lie-detection skills –"

"Well," he said, soft and deadly, "lie-detection doesn't help if I always lie."

She'd underestimated him. He was prepared to do this for a long time. Really prepared. And if he kept shaking her, she'd lose all control of the situation, and –

"Yeah, _you're_ just not that good," he made it sound like a not unkind observation.

She had to get back on track, and fast. "Hah, like you know anything. I haven't revealed all my tricks yet."

He remained unconvinced, and he put on a tone of even greater certainty. "I know enough. Our situations are a bit similar, aren't they?"

"Can't imagine what you mean," she scoffed, and she couldn't.

"I don't just mean the current parallels –" he tilted one trapped foot towards her and then himself a couple times. "Your family is wealthy, and they can take care of you, but that's not enough; you want to be sure no one else can sign _for_ you and sign away your life." She choked, and almost made a hole to hide in, except that he'd see her do it. "Well, I could just live at the palace and never go outside those bounds, but then _I'd_ be blindly following along to decisions made by others."

She shook her head to dislodge the confusion. "I thought you hadn't heard of my family before."

"I haven't," he answered, "but it's obvious. What commoner family would get the notion to keep an earthbender child away from mud? The private tutors, the way you talk, the careful restrictions you had to observe –"

She'd always thought herself unique; but maybe she'd just been isolated. He obviously knew all about it. Not that she cared. Still, she did get his point.

"So just because of that, you think I should be on your side?" she said with scorn. "Let you go on in your disguise and not tell the others; that's what you want, right? You seriously expect this argument to work?"

"Since you can't decide between two clear options, I'm glad a third one finally occurred to you," he replied in a similar tone.

Offense used as defense. It felt like a very satisfying option right now. "Just why would I be stupid enough to do that?"

He tensed up again, but not as much. "How about because my goals actually align with your group's for now? The drill needs to be stopped. I can – and will – help with that. If you reveal my identity now, you lose a very good source of inside information."

Not bad. "So tell me why your goals shifted so conveniently for us, would you?"

"Because I don't want Azula to actually capture Ba Sing Se."

She couldn't detect any lying. "That's a bad case of sibling rivalry you've got."

"You could say that," he snorted. More seriously, he added, "Azula sees the glory of defeating the previously undefeatable. Yet the Fire Nation doesn't have enough forces to spare to keep a city that size under control. If we transfer soldiers in, then other places will be left defenseless. Is it so hard to believe that I don't want such a 'victory' for the Fire Nation, or the many deaths it would involve?"

"I hear you being all sincere, all right, but that's not the whole story, is it?"

He exhaled angrily. "So there may be a few other reasons. Isn't it good enough to know that I'm willing to help _the Avatar_ out, for this? You don't have to trust me any further than one planning session, which, with lie-detection, wouldn't even be a risk for you. Then I leave again, and no one needs to be the wiser."

"Really. Because I've heard a lot of moaning about how they all miss this Blue character, and they'd surely ask you not to go." She pounced on the spasm in his heartbeat. "You've really ingratiated yourself with them, haven't you? What for?"

His breathing became a bit irregular – frustrated? Sad? "I only have till tomorrow afternoon, anyway; Uncle wouldn't agree to more. It started as a way to get information on where they were going. Then it got out of hand."

"_Way_ out of hand."

"Yeah. Look, capturing the Avatar is not my first priority now. It may be again in the future, but if that happens, I will do it as I always have – honorably, under my own name. I will not offer them harm under the aegis of the Blue Spirit."

It didn't make much sense to her – but it did to him, from what she could sense. "I _can't_ look. What do you get out of this charade?"

"Better chances of success. They're woefully unprepared, and wouldn't take my suggestions without the disguise."

"Doesn't apply to before _or_ after."

He sounded curt. "Basically, I was curious. Still am. They're always saying or doing something unexpected, and that can be useful to me. Also, with the way they act, it would take next to nothing for someone else to capture the Avatar, so by keeping a close watch, I've helped myself."

He believed what he said, and the excuses were halfway rational – in a way that seriously didn't match everything she'd heard about his actions while in disguise. None of them explained the unasked-for help he provided (to the point of making Sokka rightly suspicious), or how just preserving his disguise in front of _Momo_ had made him feel guilty, or things he'd said about his family to them that were perfectly true, or how they genuinely enjoyed having him around…

"Wait, wait. You actually like them, don't you."

He wouldn't answer at first, and his body language screamed 'ashamed,' but eventually he said, almost belligerently, "So long as they're not actively doing harm against the Fire Nation, they have their good points."

Toph laughed herself nearly sick and kept laughing at his growl of "What's so funny?" Weakest excuse _ever_, to _himself_, no less! Could this _get_ any more entertaining? Oh yes, yes it could!

When she finally wound down, she was nearly too limp to release him from her improvised restraints, but she managed.

He unfolded his joints carefully and stood up. "So you believe me now?"

"Well, any funny business and I'll flatten you under a boulder while I reveal your secret, but since you were so truth-telling, sure, why not. Let's go, Blue-face.

* * *

><p>Aang heard Katara say, "Where were you? We were just about to mount a rescue!" and snapped his head up to look. Blue sure <em>seemed<em> okay. Roku said he shouldn't tell Blue, but really, he couldn't even hint? Then what good was he, with all this spirit stuff?

"Blue didn't manage to catch them," Toph reported. "I found him wandering about the woods, all philosophical-like. We used up a lot of time trying to communicate. You know, blind and mute don't mix all that well," she shrugged.

Blue sent a sideways glance at Toph, but nodded and spread his hands apologetically to the rest of them.

"Ah, don't worry about it," Sokka said. "We didn't really need them for anything more, and they sure were a handful." Katara prickled up again and muttered things under her breath. She'd healed all his cuts in a moment, but by her mood, anyone would think that he'd been badly injured or something.

"However," Suki said sharply, "since they did escape, they're quite likely to send in patrols after us. We need either a new hiding place, or to just keep going till we put some distance between them and us."

Not again! In Ba Sing Se, at last, the Fire Nation wouldn't be able to push them around anymore, but arriving in the middle of the night was pointless. "We need rest, so a hiding place it is," he decided. The repacking didn't take long. As they made a couple of torches and smothered the fire, he heard Katara ask, "But where can we go that's hidden enough? How did the little animal find us, anyway? It was smell with that other animal, but we didn't leave anything belonging to us behind this time."

Sokka and Suki exchanged a glance, he whipped out the map, and they both leaned over it. Blue came up to stand next to them. The three of them pointed here and there with occasional mutters and the scritch of chalk, until Sokka straightened. "Okay. Our target location is a cleft in this big hill – I'll lead the way. Blue and Suki will make sure that we don't leave too many visible traces along the way. Katara, you'll wash our trail with your water carefully, to remove any scent. When we get there, Toph will cover up the entrance with a wall, and cover the wall with something that looks like a rockslide, thick enough to muffle any sound."

Aang couldn't help noticing the only person that Sokka left out. "I'll help Toph," he quickly said. "I could always use more training, right?" Toph smiled.

"Good," Sokka said with a nod. "Get to it."

Blue and Suki made them step on rocks as much as possible, and he and Toph quickly began to provide little temporary rock bridges, though they could only do it in places where that wouldn't disturb the soil and leave clear traces. It was quite the bending workout! He glanced behind them where Katara worked. She also had to pick spots where it wouldn't be too obvious, and in that dark patch of shadow, he couldn't see much more than her shape, but multiple strands of water swished and pattered over the ground in response to her every graceful move. When she stepped back towards them and began to pull the water out (so that the ground would not be soggier than everything else around), the moonlight reflected off the water to etch her hands and face with faint silver, and a few droplets sparkled in her hair, and she looked _amazing_.

Her calm way of working helped ease Aang's anxiety a bit, but it wouldn't let go. The effort to bend stubborn rock, and the need to flee again (_not on Appa; where is he?_ – that thought clamored over and over in his mind), and what Roku said, all combined to make his stomach jump queasily. When they got closer to their destination, Toph told him to rest a bit and conserve his strength for the big rockslide they'd make. He was grateful for the break, but it left him with nothing to do, and Blue was often busy but right now they'd paused again to let Katara work, and Toph would warn them if anything got into hearing range. "Um, hey, about your question earlier."

Blue glanced back over his shoulder and tilted his head inquisitively for a second.

"I talked to Roku for you," not like he'd had anything else to do, since they all ganged up on him. "He said there was no way for a normal human to speak to a spirit, though an offering can bridge the worlds sometimes."

Blue's shoulders slumped for a moment, then straightened. He gave a jerky nod of acknowledgement and looked away. Was he only disappointed?

"Did you hear me? You're not supposed to be able to speak to spirits at all! Roku said there were a few possible explanations, and many of them are dangerous to you!"

Blue shrugged, then did some complicated hand-swooping gesture. Aang had no idea what it meant, but he knew a bit about Blue. "You're trying to tell me you're fine, right?" Blue nodded. "Well, are you sure? I mean, really, really sure? Remember how we all heard the Air Nomad spirits, but you were the one who nearly fainted?" _I should have noticed the bleeding before_, Roku said. Then he refused to explain what he meant except to say it wasn't physical, and seemed to regret letting it slip out, but it certainly couldn't be healthy!

Katara finished her work and came back. Blue just shook his head and went over for a quick check on whether she'd left any traces. While Blue couldn't see, Katara gave him an understanding look, nodded towards Blue, and put her hand on his shoulder. He had no trouble understanding that – she'd heard, she was reasonably worried, and she'd help him convince the stubborn guy if necessary. He basked in that for a moment.

They all started walking again, and he took a deep breath. "Look, here's how Roku explained it to me." Maybe Blue _would_ figure it out himself quickly. "The Spirit World and the Substance World are connected and affect each other, because the underlying reality for both is spiritual energy. In our world, the energies are bounded by their bodies, and become people. In the other world, energies are bounded by some unexplainable stuff instead, so they become spirits. That's why people can't go into the Spirit World until they die and transform." Roku had said here 'although there have been a few notable exceptions' with peculiar amusement, but he wasn't going to tell Blue that part – what if he took it into his head to try? "In return, spirits also have to transform when they incarnate. Communication doesn't require transformation, but even then, there are two sets of boundaries to deal with. Everyone instinctively maintains theirs against intrusion – which is a good thing, because there are lots of bad spirits who'd take advantage in a heartbeat," he glared at Blue, who shrugged again. Momo chittered quietly into his ear, and he reached a hand back to rub Momo's head soothingly while he tried to figure out what to say next.

"Aang!" Toph interrupted. As he looked up to see her waving him over, he also saw the problem – Sokka, who'd been scouting up ahead, had halted in front of a dense stand of bushes and trees that filled the ravine along which they'd been travelling. They'd have to backtrack a ways… "It's not that wide," Toph said. "Sokka thought maybe you could take us all across on your glider, like you did in the library – can you? Suki agreed it would really confuse the trail!"

One at a time, he could, though it was a strain. While he was catching his breath, Toph announced that what little she'd heard made her curious to hear more. ("How can I pass up the chance to learn something that affects my new mysterious friend?" as she put it.) So he explained again, then continued, "Spirits need to be strong to manifest to us even in the slightest way, in dreams. The more clearly a spirit manifests, the more strength it needs. It works in reverse, too, so really spiritually strong people can partly manifest in the Spirit World and bring back their visions. The Blue Spirit used to be really strong, which is how he manifested to travelers, but something happened – there are spirits who live by stealing the strength of other spirits, and he probably fell into an ambush by one of those, Roku said – so now he can't do that anymore."

Blue's pace caught for a moment; then he waved his hand for Aang to go on.

"Now, if everyone just sat inside their boundaries, nothing would ever get done, so spirits make all sorts of connections, in both worlds. For living people, they're usually connections to other people, sometimes to a place or a thing, or to one of the big spirits – like everyone in the Water Tribe has a small connection to the Moon and Ocean Spirits."

Now Katara stopped and blinked at him. "Really, Aang?"

"Yeah, and you know the strangest part? They wouldn't be nearly such strong spirits if your people didn't allow those small connections. So how did it get that way in the first place?"

"There are some legends about the beginnings, but I can't remember anything about this," she frowned. "Maybe Gran-Gran would know…"

By the sound of it, she'd start missing her gran any moment now. Hurriedly, he went on, hoping to distract her. "When people die, their transformed spirits still retain those connections, and they can draw on them to manifest – that's how our ancestors keep watch over us, and also why ghosts haunt the places they used to know." Katara looked interested again.

Toph said, in an oddly casual tone of voice. "Wonder what happens when ancestors have to watch over someone who's far away from his birthplace – it must be more difficult." He glanced over at her, but she'd already looked away and was staring fixedly at Blue instead, who was scanning the ground intently.

Aang made a mental note for the future to find out about Toph's ancestors, but for right now, he had to say, "I don't know. So, um, using those connections for strength? As the Avatar, with the thousand connections to my past lives, which exist both here and in the Spirit World, I've got all the strength I need to cross back and forth freely. But those who don't have enough of such natural connections have to tap into something else to do it – like the strength of the person to whom the spirit is trying to manifest. In the best case, a person actually invites the spirit – this weakens all sorts of boundaries, so the manifestation requires less strength than usual. Those thieving spirits? They can sometimes cut their way into a connection that doesn't belong to them, and that way requires _more_ than usual, so they forcibly drain the living person of spirit strength. That's the really bad possibility."

He looked up at Blue. "There's some stuff in between, too, but basically, either the Blue Spirit is using his own strength, and that's unlikely because he's no longer that strong, or he's using yours – and Roku said that you're more vulnerable than most people to attacks of that sort." Bleeding, Roku said, and when Aang gasped and asked what he could do, Roku frowned heavily. _"You shouldn't do anything, Aang. Don't even tell him about this; it's something he must discover and deal with on his own."_ And then more gently, _"Don't look so worried. Your friend is very resilient, and he is not without protection."_ How was he supposed not to worry? Roku had misspoken, understandably – Aang had thought he and Blue would be friends at the beginning, too, but then they clashed all the time – but Blue was a good person, and he didn't deserve this.

Blue nodded in an encouraging way and they walked on in silence. A few minutes later, they finally arrived, but before Toph could herd everyone inside into the spot she liked, Suki spoke up. "Wait. I think this is where I have to leave."

"What?" came a strangled cry from Sokka.

Suki put her hands on his shoulders and spoke gently. "I told you, I do have to get back as soon as I can, so it'll have to be the ferry for me after all. I wish I could stay, but I can't. Maybe we'll all visit Ba Sing Se sometime soon, all right?"

Sokka's head snapped back and his jaw set. "Sure, but why leave now? Why not rest up first?"

"Because travelling alone is safest at night." Aang could see she wouldn't compromise, but Sokka looked way too mulish himself.

Like the rest of them, Blue sat down to wait out the argument, then wrote for Aang, "Don't be so anxious about not having a better answer on spirits. That information is useful in itself. It explains why both times I heard the Blue Spirit were after I addressed him directly."

"You're not going to try anything stupid to talk to him, are you?" he asked.

Blue shook his head no. "Just try the offering, as I planned. According to you, it should really help, and I've never noticed any strain on myself in the first place."

"Okay," Aang sighed. If Blue wouldn't abandon the idea entirely, this was the next best thing.

"The Kyoshi Warriors must be getting worried sick by now!" they heard a particularly loud exclamation from Suki.

Blue wrote a question and gave it to Katara – "I don't know much about Kyoshi Warriors. What's going on?"

Suki and Sokka didn't even notice as Katara began to explain, not just the current situation but everything. "Poor Suki," Toph soon commented, "a century of peace, and then such bad luck. That Zuko guy acted like a pushover when I met him, but he sure cuts a wide swath of destruction." She suddenly got a strange sort of smile on her face, at odds with her words.

Katara agreed emphatically, and added, "I don't care what that girl said. It's clear that the way firebenders wage war is mirrored by how they act with each other. Who can boss who around is everything to them."

Toph raised her eyebrows. "Ty Lee had a point about her friendship with Mai, don't you think?"

Katara shook her head. "Maybe. I'm not saying they're completely beyond all normal feelings. Just most of them! Azula thinks it's okay to kill her uncle, and Mai abandoned her brother, and if the Firelord doesn't bother to find out who his children's friends are, the only alternative to 'uncaring' is that he's stupid."

Toph looked like she was stifling laughter. "All right, you've convinced me."

Katara gave Toph an exasperated look. "If you have arguments otherwise, let's hear them."

Toph shrugged casually. "Nah, I'm not from the Fire Nation. I can't justify it like they do. A pity we don't still have those two – I'd have liked to ask them more questions." She looked at Blue. "Hey, _you've_ travelled a lot and seen firebenders at work. Do you have any ideas?"

Blue didn't respond in any way. Katara frowned and touched his shoulder, upon which he kind of shook himself. "Tired?" she asked him. He nodded. "Yeah, it's been a long day. We'll have to save the actual planning till tomorrow, especially if those two don't hurry it up."

"Too bad," Toph said. "You're an interesting guy, Blue. I'm going to stick close and hear all you've got to say!"

Blue shrugged – he did seem tired. Aang stifled a yawn of his own and noticed that Katara looked tired, too. Toph, by contrast, bubbled over with gleeful energy. When Sokka finally lost the argument, Toph bounced to her feet and told them to move, pointedly leaving Sokka outside with Suki for the moment. As she rapped her knuckles on the walls to figure out the best way to do this, Katara smiled at her gently and murmured something about Sokka. Aang didn't quite catch it, but it seemed to please Toph.

Blue was writing again, this time, "Before you seal us in, I do need to know whether you're still going to disable the drill, or if you'll look for Appa first.

Wasn't that a stark way to put it. "Appa will have to wait," he answered with a sigh. "I'm really worried, though," he added quietly. Katara put her arm around his shoulders, and he leaned into her. Blue started to write again, but then Sokka came in. Aang and Toph became busy putting up a dome all around ("the shape reflects sound back to us, instead of outside," Toph explained), and then started the rockslide. Despite knowing exactly how thick the dome was, Aang still shied instinctively at the sound of massive boulder impacts overhead.

Once the last rumbling died away and Toph got to the delicate work of making an air vent for them without defeating the soundproofing, Aang finally read, "Did your latest connection-sense attempt give you bad news?"

He frowned. "The latest was back when we tracked the traders down."

Blue went very still in that way he had. "You didn't even bother to keep checking? That was why the circus fiasco?"

He nodded, then suddenly found himself dangling in the air, with Blue's hands in a painfully tight grip around his arms. The mask glared up at him, and his friends gave a few exclamations, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone shifting closer. After a few moments, Blue put him down more gently. "I'm sorry – I shouldn't have done that – but what's wrong with you?" he wrote. "Of all the stupid things to do! I thought you cared about Appa."

Aang went hot and cold. "I do! I thought we already knew where he was, so I didn't need to check!"

"If you'd felt him there recently, that explanation would work, but your information was days out of date. Really, after your ill-thought-out run through the circus didn't find him, didn't you feel the need to recheck then?"

"No," he muttered, looking down at the ground.

"And tonight, when you heard that he'd escaped, it didn't occur to you to immediately check again?"

"How'd you know about that?" he asked. "Were you already there for that part?"

Blue shook his head and wrote, "Toph filled me in on the way back, and don't try to distract me. You had the perfect opportunity while waiting for us. So?"

Aang looked around and saw that his friends' expressions ranged from worried to expectant. No help there; they wanted to know, too. "I just didn't think of it, all right?" Even as he said it, he knew it wouldn't help. "What do you want from me?" he exploded. "I want to find Appa right now, but I'm helping you with the drill first – that doesn't tell you anything?"

"It tells me," Blue wrote, "that you have good priorities, and are willing to do what's right despite what it costs you, but you are still avoiding the question."

"I don't want to use the connection-sense, all right? The only reason I ever wanted to use it was to find Appa, and then I couldn't! I tried, over and over, and each time, it was like I lost him all over again! So I couldn't go on forcing myself to do it. The last time, I needed Katara's support to do it, and even though I did find the traders, I felt horrible for hours after." Just the memory of it made him ache.

There was a very long pause, during which Katara and Sokka shifted closer to him in a silent show of sympathy. He smiled gratefully at both of them.

Finally, Blue wrote, "Believe me, I understand how hard it can be to keep trying after repeated failure. But for Appa – shouldn't you push yourself to the limits?"

"I already did."

"Then what about using Katara's support again? It doesn't sound like you asked her."

"He didn't," Katara said, with a hint of judgment. Sokka's mouth had thinned to a line, and Toph shook her head.

"You just don't get it," Aang told them. "I know it's been a hundred years for everybody, but not for me. I didn't feel any of that time passing. Just a few months ago, I was still at the Air Temple. I've left it for a few months before. Why wouldn't I see all my friends again when I came back? I know they're gone, but I can't believe it – and then I visit one of temples, or I see the war going on, and it's like I lost them all over again. Or I'm flying along," he swallowed, "with my new friends, and it suddenly hits me that I haven't seen any other flying bison in the sky for ages, and it's all the same again. I've already pushed myself."

He blinked back tears and looked up. Katara's face had softened into an expression of such sympathy that he knew she understood, and Sokka bumped his shoulder with his own, and Toph sat down near them instead of by the wall. He couldn't tell what Blue was thinking, but that was all right. His friends understood.

He wouldn't have been surprised if Blue decided to yell at him again, but it was taking him a long time to write, almost hesitantly at first, then more decisively. Finally, Katara read out, "That _is_ far too much to push yourself past, every day, and you don't even have a chance of it changing. Look, I know that nothing can really help, but I think that you'd be able to withstand it better if you stopped being afraid about firebending. It's all about willpower and determination, and so long as you're afraid of it, you'll have trouble drawing on those qualities in yourself."

Toph whistled at that. The suggestion was kindly meant, Aang could tell, but, "I don't think so. Thanks, anyway."

Of course, Blue didn't take the hint. "Yes, I know you don't want to use it, and you don't have to. All I said was to stop fearing it. There's one exercise that you can't hurt anyone with. Just try it for tonight and tomorrow, while I'm still here. After that, it's up to you. Deal?"

"A deal, huh? What do I get?" he asked.

Blue ignored the question and stared at the floor of their little artificial cave. Soon, he extracted some twigs from the usual debris littering the ground and examined each intently, discarding all but a few. "We'll only take ten minutes, since it's so late. This exercise is very simple. You really should have a candle for it, but the twigs will have to do. Light one, and focus on the flame. Breathe deeply – you should be familiar with that. If you do it right, the flame should dim when you breathe out and brighten when you breathe in."

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?" he interrupted.

Blue took the slate back from Katara, wiped part of the message, and wrote in something next to what remained. "That's what would happen if you used air on it instead. Make sure you're only focusing on the twig's flame – otherwise you might get the torches involved."

Aang leaned over to snatch one of the twigs. Ten minutes? If it took that to get Blue off his case, he'd do it. Not like he had to actually succeed. He lit the twig and pretended to stare at it, breathing deeply.

Shortly after, he got a new message that sounded irate even though Katara tried to read it in a softer tone. "You're not even trying, and please don't say you are. You know you're not. Remember the fire you put out? That went well. This is the same principle, except now you're using only your internal rise and fall to control a much smaller flame. If you could do that, you can do this easily."

He didn't even bother trying to argue. Fine, just ten minutes. He tried, then blinked. "It feels like I'm trying to hold a grain of sand between my fists – all clumsy and too big."

Blue gave him a new twig and wrote, "That can happen if you push too hard. Close your eyes and center yourself." He did so. "Find the center of the flame and align yours with it. Then breathe."

The moment it happened, he could feel a small, sharp tug at something inside him, just under his ribs, and he knew without looking that the flame was now connected with his breaths in a way that had nothing to do with actual air movements. He could hear a little murmur of awe from somebody as he inhaled. It wasn't actually all that different from the breathing exercises he already did a lot, just with added fire. Even a bit relaxing, though not as much as normal exercises. When the twig burned down and someone gave him another one, it was almost a wrench to abandon the first, but the alignment took just a second.

As promised, the exercise had been short, but Katara looked very sleepy now. She smiled at him when she noticed his look. "Good work, Aang. 'Night."

He blushed a little; he couldn't help it. "Thanks. I hope you sleep well."

"Hey, when do I get _my_ lesson in signing?" Toph demanded.

"Tomorrow," Katara said firmly, then knelt up and started untying her bedroll.

They all began to follow her example, except for Sokka. He had such a gloomy expression on his face all of a sudden, but he wouldn't tell them why. "Look, it's late, we're all tired, and if we get into this now… tomorrow, okay?"

* * *

><p>Despite the promise, Zuko was worried about Sokka, but his head already felt full to bursting with all the rapid changes and new information he'd had to absorb today. Right now, most everything else had been crowded aside by the intense, unstoppable sympathy he felt for Aang. Yes, he was the Avatar, yes, he'd committed crimes against the Fire Nation and might commit more, but he <em>could never go home<em>. Zuko hadn't thought much of Aang's strength before, but obviously, he'd been completely mistaken.

_You can make your own home,_ Uncle said. Zuko didn't need to, but Avatar Aang – did. It even looked like he was already trying to rebuild, but the thing was, there wasn't supposed to be a place for him in this time. That was the point of capturing him – no one should have such power and misuse it the way it had been in the past.

_Up until the previous one, we may have had problems with them, but coexisted peacefully. _He'd read the few preserved snippets of contemporary accounts of past Avatars. They contained many demands for the Avatars to stay out of Fire Nation business or act differently, but not for the Avatars to disappear entirely. _ Particularly when they stopped other nations from trying to conquer us._ So, if out of all the thousands of Avatars, one had been a traitor and a destroyer, was that a good enough reason to expect they would all be like that? In fact… was Avatar Roku, if history couldn't always be trusted? Today, he'd had the perfect opportunity to give Aang an earful on the subject of vengeance, but apparently, didn't take it. Zuko paused as he smoothed out his bedroll (such an unexpected, generous gift). Avatar Roku didn't exactly need to bother, did he? Avatar Aang had quite enough reason to want vengeance all on his own. He'd taken it, too, but all-but-promised not to do it again, and showed signs of willingness to be fair to the Fire Nation.

So maybe they could coexist again? It would take some work – a lot of work. This thing about having done the unforgivable to each other – could reparations be made on both sides, before more unforgivable acts piled up? Would anything be enough? Zuko didn't know, and he didn't have the authority now, anyway, but… what if the Avatar built his new home with the help of the Fire Nation? Wouldn't he feel beholden? Wouldn't it be a good way to prevent another betrayal?

An outdated picture, Mai had called it. What if exactly that already happened? Firelord Sozin had a plan, a hundred years ago. They were still following it. Shouldn't something have changed by now? Yes, it had brought them good things at first – the new homes, the rapid innovations – but they didn't need any more colonies now. Their population had actually been falling steadily since about thirty years ago, because of how many kept dying.

He rolled onto his side irritably. Well, all this depended on who, exactly, had lied. Both sides, probably, but to which extent? How would he ever figure this out? A small rock column began to poke his arm insistently, but he just turned away. Toph had been trying to get a rise out of him since their talk. If he didn't give her the reaction she wanted, she'd stop eventually.

As he began to fall asleep, the thoughts of the homeless Avatar morphed into thoughts of what he himself missed. The islands shone before his mind's eye one by one – crowded red roofs and noisy beachgoers, smoking volcanoes and the damp and intricate smell of jungles, the riot of color and life there and the hazy quiet of cloud forests. Fireworks on each excuse for a celebration, never absent for long from the evening skies. The people, industrious and creative, making so much from so little. The roar of glasswork furnaces with the peculiar echoes they left inside the ear, and all the music; the movement, the excitement. Everything.

* * *

><p>When Sokka woke, the yells of his dad and the other men as they fought the firebenders still rang in his ears, so it took him a few seconds to shake off the dream. He blinked painfully at the brightness. "Hey, what gives? Where's the ceiling?" he mumbled.<p>

Katara came to stand over him. "You were sleeping so soundly, we had to resort to extreme measures." Sarcasm, yep, he could recognize it in his sleep. He aimed a fuzzy glare at her, and she relented. "It's just that Toph said no one even came near during the night, so we decided to have a warm breakfast after all. Then, because the least amount of rock was upwards, that's where Toph and Aang made our new exit." She gestured to the side, and he squinted blearily to see them shaping a rough staircase. "Waking you up was just a bonus. Come on, food's almost ready."

Sokka sort-of absorbed most of that without actually listening, but did begin to stir. He still ended up as the last to go out to use the bushes, but by the time he came back, the wonderful smell of dried meat which had just softened in broth filled the air, and that inspired him to finish waking. Near the food, Katara and Toph were laughing over something, and then Katara said, more soberly, "Well, all I can say is, they really are a pair, both going for Aang like that." She was still angry.

"Oh, lighten up," Toph chuckled. "She'd've grabbed anyone, but can't you just imagine Zuko's reaction if he found out his girlfriend succeeded by accident where he'd been having so much trouble?" After a beat, she added archly, "Why, I do believe he'd be touched," and grinned at her own joke.

Katara snorted, then looked up to see him. "Sokka! Just in time."

They sat down to eat (even Blue, after a lot of digging to find the reed from the swamp). For the first time in a long while, Sokka really did feel wary around him; this stranger who might be capable of anything. Yet Blue wasn't a stranger. So why did it still feel so unsafe?

Toph demanded and got her lesson immediately after breakfast. Sokka could see that Blue wasn't comfortable in her company, even though she kept making comments to ease the tension, and Katara took on the role of go-between while acting as the reader. Blue just got tenser, but kept on helping Toph regardless (like always). He cited time constraints, but didn't rush her. By the end of the lesson, Toph could produce recognizable kanji on paper. They were still too clumsily-drawn for formal signing, but she'd probably master that with more practice.

From nearly the beginning, Sokka had known it was possible. Hadn't he argued for how it shouldn't matter? Blue wasn't like _them_. He didn't go around killing innocent people. The Fire Nation had _hurt_ him, probably just as much as they'd hurt Sokka and his family.

Over by the fire, Blue now went over the lesson with Aang again. Apparently, today, Aang should try a slightly more challenging variation – something about distinguishing the small flame against a background of large flames. Sokka found that he wanted to avert his eyes, which made him feel ashamed. _He's your_ friend. _He didn't ask to be born that way. _

"Sokka, what is it?" Katara asked.

Well, he really couldn't avoid the topic forever. He sat down on the stairs with his arms dangling between his knees and looked up at Blue. "You're a firebender. Aren't you."

The stillness was profound.

Katara unfroze first. "Sokka, what makes you say that?"

Sokka shrugged one shoulder towards Aang. "Blue's not teaching this lesson like someone who just saw it. He knows it from the inside, including potential problems. I mean, find the center of the flame? Would you guess to do that?" He saw Aang gape, Katara look very thoughtful, and Toph with her eyebrows high in surprise and a smirk beginning to spread across her face. Blue hadn't moved a muscle.

"Well," Katara tried, "he could've overheard someone teach it that way."

"That's the second purely non-combat skill he knows. What, did he make a special effort to spy on newbie firebenders?"

"Huh," Toph grinned at Blue, "apparently, you have a _bit_ of a problem in teaching without giving yourself away. Sokka's been suspecting you since your first impromptu lesson."

Blue still hadn't moved. It was that more than anything which decided Sokka, and he spoke to Blue directly. "I know you're in as much danger from the Fire Nation as we are. We won't give you away. I know you're not like the others and won't hurt us. But I still don't…" he struggled for the next part. Understand. Like it. Want you to have lied to us. He couldn't really say what he meant.

Blue picked up his slate very slowly, and began to write. He didn't offer the slate to anyone when he finished as he usually did; just left it lying there. After a moment, Katara picked it up and read, "I'm not a good firebender. That's why I know every possible way to fail such exercises. I'm better with swords."

He nodded heavily. "So what _can_ you do? You know, if we're ever in a situation where it's useful." If we ever want to fight alongside a firebender.

"Most of the basics, though I haven't mastered them. Right now, I can't do much of anything. I overexerted myself, and the bending hasn't come back yet. Does that help?"

Blue wasn't asking about the hypothetical fight. "Yeah. I mean, I know it's not your fault, but it's just…" he sighed and shook his head. "Firebenders are the enemy, you know?"

Blue nodded emphatically and wrote, "It's weird, isn't it?"

Katara cracked a smile. Toph said, "Yeah, _really_ weird." Katara said, "Well, we've certainly got enough weirdness in this group to go around," she gestured to indicate how weird each of them could be, "so adding another weirdness that completes our set of elements seems practically mundane." Sokka snorted as he saw what she meant. Suddenly, they were all laughing (excepting Blue, who kinda hunched in on himself), so when they wound down, Sokka made sure to go over and touch his shoulder. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt your lesson. Carry on." Then it was almost okay again.

Sokka didn't pay much attention after that, as he weighed up potential invasion plans again, but he caught an odd raised tone from Aang that made him turn his head. "…moving flame. You didn't have to trick me."

Blue wasn't anywhere near Aang. Katara was, and as she took the cooking pot off the fire, she said, "Aang, he didn't do that. There's just your branch and the fire."

The sound of chalk on slate announced that Blue disagreed. Everyone else had taken the 'firebender' thing in stride, so Sokka moved over to read for him. "Keep your eyes closed and tell me when you feel the movement." With one hand, Blue gestured at Katara and made slow walking motions with two fingers.

Katara shrugged and stepped away, and instantly, Aang said, "Now." Katara's eyebrows climbed up her forehead, but she kept moving. Six paces later, Aang said, "It's gone," and twisted to look. "What was that?"

"Congratulations," Blue wrote, "you've refined your ability to sense heat down to person-level in record time."

"You mean, that _was_ Katara? I thought it kinda felt like her, but, but how?"

Blue's whole body suddenly drooped, even as he wrote, "Let me amend that. You've learned, on your own, to sense the inner-fire of a person in about twenty minutes, when it usually takes more like three months." He got up and strode away stiffly, till he hit the wall and stopped.

"Hey," Sokka called after him. "So what? Aang's the Avatar – he does that kind of stuff all the time. You're not seriously feeling bad about coming off worse in _that_ competition, are you?"

Blue shook his head, but remained where he was.

Katara put the pot down on the ground, went over to Blue, and steered him back by the elbow. "Come on, don't do this to us. The first time I tried to teach Aang, I didn't come out of it so well, so don't think you're alone."

"Yeah," Toph jumped in, "you're the one who wanted him to learn. Aren't you glad he's such a quick study?" The comment stung, judging by the way Blue quickly jerked and then stilled.

What Blue wrote was, "You have to go back six generations in my family to find one non-bender. Then there's me. Excuse me for not jumping for joy."

It sounded like the problem _was_ Aang's quickness, but Blue claimed… ah. "Since everyone was quicker and better than you, you wondered a lot whether something was wrong with you. This just hit you with a painful reminder, am I right?"

Blue went still again for some moments, then gave half a nod.

Katara suddenly looked queasy. "You once said something about how I didn't make Sokka wonder if I cared about him. Right after you asked me about being the bender in the family." Oh, no.

Blue looked away for a moment, then blatantly changed the subject. "We're wasting time. Aang probably doesn't need to practice anymore today, not after taking such leaps. Let's get to the planning about the drill."

They all agreed that it would be better to disable to drill once it got close to Ba Sing Se – better support from the Earth Kingdom forces, and no possibility of it being fixed again. Blue gave them some ideas about the structure and potential weak points of the thing, but he'd only seen the tiniest bit of the inside, and all the interesting stuff would be there. Sokka rubbed his chin and pondered.

In the end, they came up with: earthbending to fill the wall in front of the drill with metal shards (to jam it), waterbending to subvert the steam that powered it, and a combination of rapid freeze-thaw cycles and earth spikes to break through the metal (since the thick plates were probably designed to withstand ordinary earthbending). They could use bombs like at the Northern Air Temple, too – slime and stink especially…

Still, it came down to not having enough information, including about how much support Ba Sing Se troops would be able to provide. Toph thought it wouldn't be much. "We'll never get those creaky generals moving quickly. Whatever units are nearest at the time, that's probably all we'll have."

"Why?" he asked.

She blew her hair out of her face. "It's the way they do things in the worst city in the world. Rules, formalities, they love that stuff. Getting things done, not so much."

Blue scribbled a message that he'd heard rumors of that, too.

"I'm sure they'll get moving in defense of their own homes, like in Omashu," Katara said firmly.

He agreed. "If you're so worried, maybe you should join us for the action." Sokka grinned. "Make the firebenders face fire, for once." Fighting alongside Blue didn't seem so bad when put that way.

Aang asked, "Do you really think that's a good idea? The firebenders don't seem keen on letting defectors live, from what Chey told us."

Blue wrote, "True, and I'm not firebending in the middle of the Earth Kingdom, either. That's why swords are a good option, but really, Sokka, I can't make any promises. I have my own business in Ba Sing Se. It can't wait."

"So you _are_ going to be there," he pounced. "What about meeting up with us the day before the drill is due?"

Blue spread his hands in an "I don't know" gesture.

Right, the resistance might send him elsewhere, but if not… With some pressing, and a few unhelpful comments from Toph about how she was sure Blue could use the outing, they finally agreed on a possible place and time.

Sokka still really liked the idea of using fire against firebenders, and said so. Blue insisted that it was last resort only, because of the inevitable fallout. Even when he used it in someone's defense, those people couldn't stand to be around him afterwards, and he couldn't blame them. (Sokka hid a wince; Blue mightn't blame him, but his own reaction had really proven that point).

"Wait," Katara said, "that means you almost never have the privacy to practice. Isn't it uncomfortable, having to hold back from the use of your element?"

A nod.

Katara looked very sympathetic. "Well, now you don't have to hide it around us."

Bender stuff. How often had he complained at Katara for practicing at odd times? Did it really feel so bad to hold back? Sokka squashed the automatic shudder at seeing any more firebending than he had to and said, "Right. Why don't you show us something cool you can do?"

"I told you, I don't know if I can, right now. Last time I tried, it went badly."

"Then what was that all about yesterday?" Aang challenged. "Doesn't it apply to you?"

Blue made a "Fair point" gesture. After a pause and a visible deep breath, he stepped back to get more space, swung his swords through the air, and suddenly, the arc of the blade became an arc of fire. It was much paler and thinner than any fire Sokka had seen before, but it wrapped around the metal in really cool ways. Sokka could only imagine what it would look like at full strength. Then the flame snapped out and _carved through _the rocky ground_ without _setting anything on fire.

"That," he breathed, "is awesome."

The fire vanished; Blue seemed uncomfortable. Sokka wouldn't let him get away with that, but clapped him on the shoulder. "Seriously. You know how weird it is that you're a firebender? This almost makes up for that."

Blue relaxed slightly, but still looked uneasy.

Aang said, "It is cool! Did you invent that move yourself?"

Blue nodded.

"Then you really shouldn't worry about the strength of your bending. A new move counts for a lot."

Toph demanded details, since she couldn't sense fire. Blue just walked away; Aang had to explain for him. Sokka was sharply reminded of the topic that Blue avoided, and some bad possibilities suggested themselves. He went over to ask. "Hey, if you don't mind telling me – did the way you got hurt have anything to do with your bending strength? Did your family kick you out over it?"

* * *

><p>Zuko shook his head. His banishment was for quite a different fault; though perhaps, if he'd been a stronger bender in the first place, he would've been invited to the councils… wait. Sokka was talking about Blue's invented history. Not his. He had to pay attention, because Sokka spoke again, "Looks like there's a 'but' in there somewhere. What, extraordinary swordsmanship isn't good enough? It has to be bending or nothing?"<p>

He slowly nodded. A Firelord who couldn't firebend properly – what good was that?

Sokka said, "That's just not a fair assessment. Look at everything you've accomplished without it. If you'd only remained a firebender, you wouldn't have been able to rescue Aang, for instance."

He shrugged heavily. For someone else, with another life, Sokka could be right.

Sokka huffed in exasperation, then looked down and said, "I've been worried for ages about whether my dad would think I'd done enough, learned enough… I still am a little, really… but while you were away, we finally got to a place where he'd been, and found a letter from him. In it, he wrote that he was proud of me and Katara, for how we've been helping Aang. It didn't even occur to me that he'd see it that way, but…" he looked up, "it was really great, finding that out. Maybe there's something like that for you with your father."

He shook his head.

"Seriously, don't pitch your expectations that low. He could surprise you." Sokka paused. "Do you want to see the letter? You'll see what I mean."

Zuko was curious, but, "Isn't it private?" he wrote.

Sokka thought a moment. "Nah, there's nothing in it that my dad wouldn't say to your face if you asked him. Katara!"

She came over and when asked, immediately withdrew the letter from her waistband and thrust it at Sokka brusquely. "I'm done with it. You can have it."

Sokka blinked. "Katara? What in the world?"

She began to turn away, but he caught her arm and drew her down to sit together. "Did something happen?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and hunched over, but said, "I've read it over and over, and I'm done. There's nothing there," she pointed at the letter.

Sokka glanced at it, then looked steadily at Katara as he held the scroll out for Zuko to take. "I'm not seeing it," he said cautiously.

"It's how long? Yet there's barely a word there about how he's been! Doesn't he think that, after two years, we might want to know that? If he's okay, if he'd ever been injured like Bato, the things he'd been doing – he used to tell us all that stuff! He could make an hour-long tale out of a day of hunting – you remember? How he'd _tell us_?" She balled up even tighter.

Sokka wrapped an arm around her. "I remember. I miss it, too, but he probably just wanted to save something for those other letters. This one was for everything he really, really wanted to say. I mean, he's been waiting a long time to write. It's not like we could get mail at the South Pole with all the ships away."

She turned into his shoulder. "What if he doesn't want to talk to us as much as before?"

He began to comfort her. Zuko sat away from the private moment and began to read. Despite Sokka's assurance, he felt embarrassed, but painfully compelled to read all of it, anyway. Sokka and Katara's dad would say all those things, aloud, to anyone who asked? It, it was… and there at the end, 'know that I love you' – something in him clenched painfully and wouldn't let go.

A father who wanted his children to know that he loved them. Just like that.

His father would mock such behavior. His father had never easily shown what he felt about anything, much less his children. Their father heaped praise upon both his children equally, although only one was a bender. Wanted them to know that he loved them. It wasn't just in those words at the end. The whole letter breathed of how much he loved them, and still he wrote the words, too, to cover the time until he could say them in person.

No wonder Katara was hurt. To have a father like that, and be separated for so long…

Worse than being separated from a father like Zuko's.

No. No. Hadn't he hurt enough, over the years, that nothing could be worse? Yet still, some traitorous part of him whispered that every time he'd imagined his welcome home, the image had been tinged with dread, because he didn't know what his father would think of him, even if he redeemed himself. He could remember only a few times in his life that his father had spoken to him for so long as an hour. It was weak, to want more than he'd earned, yet neither Sokka nor Katara seemed the worse for their father's coddling.

Well, he should be happy he had this much. He'd betrayed his father.

_how?_ the tinny voice of doubt reared up. How did a hasty comment lead to this? No one he'd talked to about it, truthfully or in disguise – none of them agreed that this should have been the consequence. Again, all their words came to him in a whispery scatter.

He didn't need to go over the details again. They were seared into his mind. It was a lesson. His father cared, and if even in his own thoughts, Zuko didn't often dare say 'loved' – too presumptuous – his father cared. Everyone else just saw what happened in public, but for Zuko, the Agni Kai was entwined inextricably with what came after, and wasn't it a blessing that, when it hurt to remember, he would always remember the private meeting that soothed away the memory of pain? In the infirmary, his father had come to talk to him. Taken the time out of his day – a long time. Still angry at first, his tone had softened as they spoke. For once, it was clear what his dad felt about him. He gave Zuko everything he could give, after Zuko had failed so badly, and trusted him. Wanted the best for him. Trusted that Zuko wouldn't disappoint him again, _immediately_ after Zuko did exactly that. No one could be so blind, unless swayed by strong affection.

(_Then why don't they hate me now? Nothing but generosity and kindness there, even from Aang, without any strong affection._) With the escape route blocked, he'd been paralyzed by the thought he might need to fight his way out. He didn't… want to. _Stupid. Could've been killed._ How had it worked out so well?

The tired, but gentle, look on his dad's face. He remembered it clearly.

(He'd doubted, just for a moment in the arena, whether his father cared for him.)

_Zuko, do you understand now why I had to do it?_

He did. He understood. He'd built a whole new life on that understanding.

So what was left to understand?

He'd always wished he could remember it more fully. They'd spoken for nearly two hours, but only fragments of the conversation had remained in Zuko's memory – probably all those medications hazing his mind, plus exhaustion towards the end. Reasons, explanations… sheer relief blotting out…

He'd always remembered the Agni Kai in light of that conversation. His father's version of what happened. He'd been in pain, hazy, dazed with shock – he tried to piece together how each thing had led to the next, but the pieces slipped in his grasp. _Then Dad came in and fit the pieces together._ Zuko had wanted that more badly than anything. For his dad to come and fix things. To show he cared. Everything Zuko wanted, right there. Still there, a comforting memory.

He'd never tried to remember it for himself, since he had this. One of the few times in his life he had known, beyond doubt, that his father cared for him. It couldn't be worth it. Because if he asked himself what else that afternoon could mean, he might feel ambushed and betrayed, helpless to stop what was happening, and so much pain, up until the last second he thought that his father probably wouldn't really do it, and it hurt afterwards, too, so much… The burning was for lack of respect, and the banishment for the weakness. Two faults, and close to three years of not knowing if the way to make up for them really existed – could've been more. A lifelong scar. He could've learned the lesson without the permanent reminder. Suffering to teach respect? Sometimes, the scar was the least of that suffering. The faults were bad ones, but did it really add up? It seemed excessive. Even cruel.

And that was wrong to think. _My father isn't cruel. He isn't. Heat-of-anger-at-worst, maybe-an-accident._ Zuko shivered and couldn't keep his thoughts in check. _Even if so, he isn't as good as I imagined him to be._ Those moments he'd stored up in his memory, the good moments, were real. But so were the long periods of silence around those moments, which Zuko had tried so hard to patch over. Even when they'd all been happy, before the vacations stopped, and their dad spent time with them much more easily, he never said much.

On the ship, with its high personnel turnover, Zuko had often wondered if his former crewmembers were ever asked to give an accounting of him. How else would his father keep track of how well Zuko was learning his lessons? _He never let me know if I was getting any closer to what he wanted me to learn, and there were plenty of opportunities for mail delivery._ Other fathers didn't act like that, and Zuko could no longer force himself to ignore that simple truth. He'd wanted a better father than the one he actually had, so he'd worked hard to lie to himself.

He _wasn't_ happy with getting so little, not when other people got so much and then shared it out so generously. No. It wasn't just about today. Not ever, actually.

Yet it was what he _had_. That Zuko hoped for more wasn't his father's fault, because he never made false promises, but was it Zuko's, for lying to himself? He didn't know what to think there. Maybe.

So what now?

"Blue, what is it? What's wrong?" Sokka shook him a bit.

For a choked moment, Zuko almost corrected Sokka. _It's Zuko, not Blue._ The words in his mouth were crowded aside by the noises of grief he also wanted to make, and he shut his teeth on them both. He forced everything back, past the constriction in his throat, and when his eyes opened again, he saw that he'd been gripping Sokka's arm hard with both hands for stability, and Sokka was looking back at him with patience, concern, and understanding.

He felt very cold and shocky, but the answer to "what now" was simple. He couldn't let them waste their time on his little breakdown. Because they would. They cared about him, and they showed it, often. Did it matter that it was addressed to his Blue Spirit persona? Apparently, yes, given his near-slipup, but it had to not matter. Because Toph (oh, Spirits, he hoped she'd failed to notice this display) was right, he liked them, too, and they all had work to do.

This, what he just allowed himself to think, was as devastating as he feared. At the same time, he already knew he would deal with it, like he'd dealt with every other devastation in his life – and he felt ashamed of that, too, like he would commit another betrayal thereby, but _it is how it is_.

So he pulled away awkwardly, and reached for his slate. "I'm sorry. I was lost in a bad memory for a moment. It's okay now," he wrote.

Sokka picked up the letter from the ground and swung around to look at him squarely. The lines of worry faded, but a frown remained. "Bad memories, I get that. I just don't like how… deeply lost you get in them. I'm not going to pry, but are you sure you don't want to tell us what sets them off?"

Of course he was sure, even though he wanted to tell more than he should. But this was a terrible idea. He just needed to get through the next few minutes, and then he could fall apart a bit on the way back, and with Uncle around, he'd get better. "I'm sure," he wrote, but couldn't put down the chalk. Didn't want to leave it at that. "I don't think my father would ever write me a letter like that." There. He could claim it was just a return to their earlier conversation.

Sokka blinked at that, but quickly adjusted. "Again, you don't know that. It's probably just your misplaced guilt over whatever it was you did talking."

"No," he wrote, and it was hard to admit, and his chest seized up painfully, but still he wrote down the next words, "even before then, I don't think he would have."

Sokka frowned hard, then said hesitantly, "Your dad's pretty demanding, isn't he?"

Demanding? Sometimes, Zuko wished his dad demanded more, so at least he'd have a few other ways to prove himself. The demands he did make were difficult to carry out, however… Zuko nodded.

Sokka shook his head silently and looked up at Katara. She scooted around to face him too. "You know, I'm just thinking," Katara said gently, "that if he hasn't seen you in years, he doesn't really know you."

Zuko rocked back for an instant. Katara pressed on. "I'm sure he thought that better firebending would help you in a lot of ways – but when he last saw you, you were hardly more than a kid. He didn't know you'd have the resilience to survive so much and develop your other talents so well."

"Yeah," Sokka added, "He didn't know your life would turn out like this – who'd want that for their kid? You had to figure out on your own what to do."

Zuko nodded quietly.

"So, you made the right choices, and you survived and did good," Katara said. "We're always happy to meet non-evil firebenders, but we like you even more than the others. There are reasons for that."

They knew him so little, and half of what they knew was a lie. Yet – it was nice to hear all the same. That was why he couldn't let them waste their time like that – he'd let them go on far too long, and things wouldn't get done. "Thanks," he wrote, and he needed to add, "I have to go now," but after a long, hesitant moment, he wrote, "I'll see you in Ba Sing Se. Maybe we'll have time to talk then."

"Sure thing," Sokka nodded. "We'll make time."

He stood up to gather his things. When he was done, Sokka offered his arm in the Water Tribe gesture and Zuko took it (and noticed the warmth against his cold fingers). Sokka didn't let go after the usual length of time. Instead, he said, "Look, I know you have a hard time with this, but I think, after all that you survived, you could put up with it for a few seconds – group hug!"

And that was exactly what happened, complete with Momo climbing onto his shoulder. He didn't know how to act in response, but despite the strong awkwardness, he didn't really mind putting up with it for a bit.


	24. Pebbleslide

Chapter disclaimer: The haiku here is a combination of two by Kobayashi Issa, as translated by David G. Lanoue, additionally slightly altered to fit the Avatar-world.

A/N: 1) Special thanks to Annoni-no and Gin no Ryuu for volunteering to beta this chapter. It's much improved through their advice. All remaining infelicities and bad spots are my own.

2) I love all the reviews – just seeing one land in my inbox brightens up my day considerably, and with all the RL stuff I've been dealing with, I want to make sure you all know how much I appreciate hearing from you (yes, even when it takes me weeks to respond). Still, criticism has a special "Yay!" place in my heart (also a dread and a self-defensive place, but the yay keeps those two relatively manageable :-) ) So once again, thanks to those who sent criticism in. I hope I'm not leaving anyone out: Kimberly T, Mafalda157, Charmed Ravenclaw, Annoni-no, Historian 1912, Vincent1875, Asj Johnson, Athalanta, GiddyGeekGrin, and Lady Isaiah. I'm behind on incorporating concrit into the story, and haven't kept my usual track of changes since last update. But I do maintain a master list of things to work on, so please keep it coming!

**Chapter 24**

Suki moved quickly, even with the necessary delays to keep herself and her trail hidden, and she made it back to the Serpent's Pass just after dawn. With the most dangerous part behind her, she stopped for a rest break. When she caught herself yawning, she got up. If she didn't dawdle, she'd be at the gate in a couple of hours. Ferries rarely left this early, but with the schedules so unsettled lately, maybe she'd get lucky. Either way, she'd have plenty of time to rest then.

A little later, she saw a group of people climbing the road up ahead. As she began to catch up, she saw that all wore Earth Kingdom clothes, and six of them were clearly refugees. Suki would've relaxed, but the other three carried no possessions with them, and their clothes showed almost no signs of wear and tear. Guards, maybe? They walked alertly and turned their heads to take in their surroundings frequently. No weapons, though. None of the identifiers of a private guard unit or one of the local armies. Fire Nation spies would try much harder to blend in. Bandits wouldn't act like this at all.

So Suki approached with stealth and kept her hands close to her weapons. On a closer look – was one of those three Bao?! The middle-aged man always stood out from the crowd, because of how oddly his paunchy belly sat on an otherwise rail-thin and gawky body, but he shouldn't be here. Every day, he and his two cousins brought as much food as they could scrounge to the people who were stuck at Full Moon Bay because they couldn't get ferry tickets, with particular care for the sickest and hungriest. The people with him here definitely weren't his cousins. Both were short, broad-shouldered, and elderly.

Cautiously, Suki let herself be seen. The strange group reacted with equal caution. After a short back and forth to double-check that it really was Bao (and that she really was Suki – the facepaint did its masking job a little too well there), he waved her over to his group eagerly.

Before she could even introduce herself formally, Bao told the other two non-refugees, "Remember that group of young women who cleared out Sinxian Pass for over a week? That's their leader!" Instead of a simple statement of fact, he made it sound as if he was bragging on her.

"I am very impressed," the woman said warmly to Suki. "Many people made good use of that time."

"It was partly luck," Suki said. The Kyoshi Warriors had quickly gotten sick of people spinning their true success into something that never happened but was "a good story." Best to cut all that off at the knees. (Sokka had understood that when she told him, and the memory flashed through her mind pleasantly.)

"Luck is nothing if not used properly," the woman said, which jolted Suki from her thoughts. "Bao told us you and your warriors became guards at Full Moon Bay. Quite idealistic, he called you, and managing to hold on to those ideals so far."

Odd phrasing, that. She dipped her head in guarded acknowledgment. "I'd call Bao quite idealistic himself, with all that he does for the refugees. You do know that even if things go so badly that he has no food to bring, he'll spend hours talking to people and cheering them up? I wouldn't have the patience." Pointedly, she added, "I've never seen him miss a day at Full Moon."

"It turned out that I need to talk to my elder cousin," Bao told her, "and since my friends are on their way to visit their daughter, they took me along."

"The cousin who raised you?" Suki had gathered that the relationship was one more of gratefulness than love, so it was a bit odd that Bao would be going there with his problems.

"Yes, him. What are you doing here yourself?"

Since he didn't seem comfortable saying more, she let it go and began to give a quick summary. At the words 'Avatar Aang,' Bao asked, "Wait, I haven't seen any of our dress-up kids leave. Was this a new one?"

"No, the real one. I've seen him airbend." He oohed with interest, and the six refugees, who had been plodding along tiredly, showed signs of curiosity, so she told the story of how she first met Aang and his friends. After that, she finished the tale of the Serpent's Pass, then hesitated. "Look, Bao, I trust you, but I don't know your friends, and Aang's in a tough situation. Gossip being what it is, maybe it's not a good idea for me to tell you where he is and what he's been doing."

Bao didn't seem upset at all. "Fair enough." He then looked sideways at the other two non-refugees. "Well, Yun-Min, Anguo, what do you think?"

Suki frowned at this, and Yun-Min shrugged apologetically. "We have our own secrets, you see."

"Like how exactly you ended up here when the bridge can't have been fixed yet?"

"Exactly like that. You said you need to get back to your warriors?"

"Yes, and I probably should get a move on. I don't want to get there and find out I've just missed the ferry."

Anguo, who'd listened alertly but kept his own counsel, shook his head. Yun-Min held up a hand. "Just one more thing. Is the Avatar at all aware of the Fire Nation drill nearby?" She nodded with satisfaction at Suki's silence. "I see you know what I'm talking about. Oddly enough, we're on our way to share our knowledge of that with some people who might be able to help. It's less urgent now that we know the Avatar is on the job, too, but we still ought to make sure. It'll only take a few hours, and then we'll head back."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you'll find that very few ferries are going in either direction right now. A large number of Fire Nation ships have just arrived from the south, and everyone is keeping their heads low while they figure out where the enemy ships safely aren't. We, however, are used to taking risks. We wouldn't normally offer to take anyone back with us, but your case is different. Bao _has_ told us quite a bit about you. We've been wondering whether to openly contact your group of young warriors for some time, so I say, we take that risk, too." Bao smiled triumphantly. Yun-Min dipped her head to him, then looked at Anguo. The two of them seemed to hold a silent conversation for a moment before he also nodded.

This looked a bit too good to Suki. "In some ways, I can speak for the Kyoshi Warriors, but I don't make their decisions for them, and whatever you have on offer, we'll decide as a group whether it's worth doing. So who are you, that you have been 'wondering'?"

"Oh, there's a formal organization my husband and I answer to, but our group here is composed of people who don't like the way that the poorest and most vulnerable refugees are treated," Yun-Min said.

"You certainly qualify," Bao interrupted eagerly. "Do you know how many people tell me I'm doing a good thing? Many. How many of them actually donate spare food? Much fewer. And how many of them actually go out of their way to help, the way you have? Almost nobody."

Yes, the Kyoshi Warriors had begun to help Bao on their days off, by harvesting the bushes far out into the countryside. Most refugees simply didn't have the Kyoshi Warriors' weapons and skills, to go that far themselves. "Glad to help. We'd go out there to practice regardless," she told him honestly, then grinned as she added, "or to escape the crabby lady for a bit!"

Yun-Min said, "Nonetheless, there are never enough people who actually help. They think they won't make a difference. Often, they're right, too, but a little bit is better than nothing. It takes a certain kind of idealism to keep trying, and yet that idealism is our only true concern about the Kyoshi Warriors."

Suki raised her eyebrows. "You'll have to explain that."

"Many people can't afford a ferry ticket, and we can help with that. Yet we _cannot_ take anyone who won't be able to keep our secrets, so one job you could take on is to sound people out and decide if they can be trusted. If not, then no matter how desperate their circumstances, we have to leave them."

Suki had sometimes wondered at Bao's seemingly endless stream of chatter, but thought he was just naturally gregarious. She'd liked talking to him, and he'd been weighing her up.

"Picture it," Yun-Min said firmly. "Could you live with yourself for abandoning someone? How much would you second-guess yourself for each such decision you had to make?"

She'd had to leave Nuofu, back at the pass. Not for always. Just long enough to place the explosives. Second-guessing didn't come into it then; she'd been too frantic to finish the job in time single-handed and get back before Nuofu lost too much blood. Still, the choice had involved the terms Yun-Min named in a way. The safety of the other Kyoshi Warriors relied on coordinated action. So Nuofu hadn't asked for anything, but her eyes had been wide and desperate. Neither of them had ever seen anyone hurt as badly as that. They'd grown up together, trained together, and fought together. How could Suki leave her alone to face every terrifying "what if"?

Looking back on it, Nuofu had helped make the decision easier. She nodded as if it only made sense when Suki first told her how it must be, and she'd acted as if she'd be fine. Despite the pain, she hadn't blown their cover by making any noise. She'd done great. She kept working at doing great now.

Occasionally, Suki couldn't stop thinking of all the ways it could have gone much worse. She watched Nuofu, and worried over what might yet happen. She still knew she made the right call.

"I think I could," Suki said. "I've made a choice like that before. I do wonder what else I could've done, a lot, but I'm not second-guessing what I actually did. I'm trying to figure out what I can do better in the future."

Yun-Min gave her a long look, and nodded. She asked more questions, led Suki through a few more hypothetical scenarios, talked more about consequences (a whole lesson in itself, which Suki was glad to absorb now rather than after hard experience), but those were all details. Suki knew she was in. She had a few questions of her own to ask, and she still needed to talk it over with the Warriors, but she was pretty sure they'd jump right on this.

When she said so, Bao laughed. "See? I told you." He patted Suki's shoulder. "Just one other thing. I trust you won't be too shocked if we don't always operate in entirely legal ways?"

Suki took a look at Bao, who worked so hard to feed people, then at the six raggedy people, quiet with fatigue, who were clearly being escorted into Ba Sing Se in one of those less-than-legal ways. She thought about the sea of people who wandered around Full Moon Bay in defeat. Those same people would go on to mark out a small spot with blankets and try to live there for weeks or months on next to nothing, because it was still safer than going outside. All those refugees who came up to her, begging for help because something of theirs had been stolen. To find any way of helping them was near impossible. The thick crowds, full of people carrying belongings, were a thief's playground. She'd caught a few in the act, but she always wished she could do more. All those stupid, stupid rules they had to follow while they remained guards.

"No," Suki said. "I wouldn't be too shocked."

* * *

><p>Once they got out of the hills, all they had to do was cross the plain to get to the city wall. Toph thought they'd get there even faster if they didn't try to solve the mystery of what had just happened with "Blue" at the same time. By now, she was seriously wishing they'd switch the topic. Sure, his attempts to dodge all that do-gooding concern next time they saw him were guaranteed to be massively entertaining. In the meanwhile, it just wasn't as much fun having a secret when he wasn't here reacting all over the place. Inwardly, that is. He'd proven surprisingly capable of keeping up an outward nonchalance. At least, no one called him out for acting any weirder than usual. To her senses, though, he just seethed with all sorts of responses. And he was definitely very sore about not being able to hide from her, but he obviously liked playing their game as much as she did. Secretly, she was rooting for him not to fail anytime soon, even if it meant he won.<p>

So it had been safe to go all out in her teasing, and the entertainment had been glorious. Not to mention, he'd surprised her in some pretty good ways, with the "teach Aang firebending" thing. She still couldn't quite figure that one out, but she could tell just how genuinely he'd wanted to help. It probably had to do with his whole volatile personality – one moment, one thing, the next, another. (There certainly wasn't much of the "relentless chaser" part of him showing now, but all this confirmed that she shouldn't ever drop her guard. Fun was one thing; safety, another.) Even when nothing was going on, he kept vibrating like an ongoing earthquake. She'd had to poke him with a rock to get him to settle down enough to let her sleep.

So with all that, why couldn't Zuko be an easier guy to understand? Seriously. The mystery of him going over the edge bothered her, too, even though she didn't feel the need to pick it apart like they did. Was it something about the letter? Maybe. Maybe not. She was pretty sure he'd been okay when reading it. No reactions interesting enough to distract her from picking her toes. Then all of a sudden, she realized that something strange was going on with him. Some of those patterns of tension, she couldn't even remember having encountered before, and he wasn't exactly in an explain-y mood, so she couldn't begin to get a context for them. Some very strong and painful thing agitated him. Oh, sure, there were a few flashes of recognizable emotion-patterns during the episode – but they didn't clear anything up.

When the letter dropped from his fingers, he didn't even notice. Sokka did, and confronted him, but although she'd monitored him closely, she still didn't get much that she could use to ground his reactions. The comment about his father was the closest thing she got, but even with the advantage of knowing who that was, she remained as baffled as everybody else. So Zuko didn't have the best father-son relationship ever – like that was news. When they'd talked about the Firelord before, or even the banishment, Zuko had been the overall-muscle-and-breathing-rigid kind of upset rather than this unfamiliar centered-through-the-upper-body-tension-shifting-w ildly kind. She felt sorry for his upset, but without knowing what caused it, she wasn't sure she should.

Anyway, at least she could wind everyone up by offering up her own "guesses." She was particularly proud of the reactions she got when she said that clearly, Blue was actually a wolfbat in disguise as a human, like in the old folktale. The real reason he covered himself head to toe was because he couldn't tolerate the sun. He'd acted weird because wolfbats hate the smell of ink, which was why he normally wrote on anything but paper. He'd been trying to stoic it out to fool them, but broke down when he'd handled the letter too much.

Sokka tried to lecture her on taking this more seriously (while using phrases like "he grabbed my arm like he was drowning." Such drama-making didn't even deserve a response). Luckily, the wall was right ahead, and she broke away to teach Aang how to do a rock platform.

Toph had a short advance warning of the rain, as the tiny impacts of the raindrops began to vibrate through the overall pattern of the ground. She didn't like cold wetness that she couldn't sense before it hit her, but it wasn't a big deal, and she liked the way that rain left soft, pliable, and squishy layers of earth. It turned out, this time she didn't even have to put up with the rain first. A side benefit of having a waterbender in the group, as Katara took Sokka's grumbling as a personal challenge to create the biggest-ever rainshield.

The side not-a-benefit was Katara worrying aloud over whether Blue's coughing might get worse because of being out in the rain.

Really, it was a bit sad, that they cared so much about someone who didn't actually exist. So while Katara did her thing, and Toph and Aang bent their rock platform up the wall, Toph thought about how they'd stop caring in a second if they knew who it really was. If Zuko was smart, he wouldn't come back. He'd clearly wanted to, though. When they asked, he only hesitated until she got across that it was fine by her, so long as he kept his nose clean. And maybe she did get that. She didn't particularly _like_ most of the people she met at tournaments, after all. Usually, they just slung insults at each other. Anyway, she missed being around them, whenever she was forced to stuff herself back into the role of little doll Toph. For all the pain-in-the-neck of setting it up so she could sneak away successfully, and the fear of people guessing who the Blind Bandit was, she'd never seriously considered stopping.

Once on the wall, all Aang had to do was announce who he was and demand to see the guy in charge – and people took him there. "Sweet deal," Toph said under her breath. Her parents had drilled it into her head that you didn't get that kind of respect without flashing a lot of money or using your connections – but apparently, they'd been wrong. Toph grinned.

However, the first thing General Sung said was, "It is an honor to welcome you to the outer wall, young Avatar, but nothing can get through our defenses. Your warning is appreciated, but it is not needed."

"Not needed?" Aang repeated.

"Not needed," the general said smugly. He stood up and gestured to a telescope nearby. "My men are always on watch. If they catch sight of anything like that, we'll have plenty of time, and my best team can be down on the ground in seconds to intercept it."

"But it's huge!" Sokka interrupted, waving his arms up high. "And armor-plated to withstand earthbending! And capable of carrying plenty of firebenders inside!"

"Oh, yes, you mentioned that." General Sung said with a smiling tone. "These things always look bigger when you don't know how to handle them."

Toph stomped her way forward. "Excuse me? Are you seriously suggesting that we made the danger up?"

"No, no!" he flapped his hands in front of himself. "I'm sure you saw everything you're reporting to me -"

"But you don't believe a bunch of stupid kids can accurately assess the situation, come up with good plans, and help you out."

His tone became sickly sweet, which was way too familiar from her past visit to this horrible city. "Now, now, you say that we have time before this threat arrives. Why don't you just write down the information you have and leave it with me. My adjutant will review it and take appropriate measures."

Sokka said, "I _guess_ that's fair."

"It's probably the best we can hope for," Aang sighed. "Just please, be sure to prepare yourselves for the worst. Even if you think we're overreacting, surely that can't hurt!"

"I'll be sure to do that."

Toph didn't even need to check with her hands to make sure she was getting all the fine vibrations. The big ones were already loud and clear. It didn't hurt to put on a bit of a show, however. "He's lying! He's going to foist this off on his adjutant, but he won't do anything about it."

"Uh, Toph?" Sokka said. "What are you doing crouched down like that? And how can you tell?"

She straightened up. "I can feel his breathing and heartbeat. When people lie, there is a physical reaction, and he's definitely having one now."

Then, she realized that she should've turned to face them. (When dealing with sighted people, allowing them to look at your face added to your sincerity, and she'd take all the advantages she could.) She braced herself for a huge fight about how she couldn't possibly do that and turned, but Aang, Katara, and Sokka all became mad at the general, not at her, which must mean they believed her right away.

Katara tried reason first. "Please, sir, reconsider. Why would we go to all this trouble to get you this information if we didn't want to help?"

General Sung spread his arms as if he was about to hug Katara, who ducked back. "I am happy to have the Avatar himself offer his help to us, but as I keep saying, we are already prepared for anything." He blathered on about how no one had ever penetrated the wall before. Where exactly had this guy been six years ago? She grinned smugly when her quick history lesson brought him up short, then made a face when he quickly switched to bleating about the meaning of the city's name. As if that would protect him. Seriously, where were all the _good_ generals? Time for a change in tactics.

"Fine," she said. "You say this Terra Team can take on anything? I'll bet you they can't even take on one little blind girl."

General Sung tried to wriggle out of the challenge, claiming that he just didn't want to see her get hurt. Her championship belt didn't sway him, as he claimed to have never heard of the Earth Rumble. Philistine. Aang threw his weight behind her as the Avatar. Well, some weight. Yet again, Twinkletoes started out strong but didn't follow through properly. Even his soft attempt should've been more than enough for a hint, however, if Sung didn't have dung for ears.

Fed up, she shifted the wall segment on which they all stood down into the enclosed courtyard from which she'd sensed the vibrations of some really intense earthbending training, to make her challenge directly. She didn't expect the eight soldiers inside to take her seriously straight away, but they should've at least appraised her, maybe tried to give her a little shove, physical or verbal. Instead, they hung back uneasily, so she taunted them some more. "I bet you got all your medals for playing in the sandbox!" she concluded with a flourish, and at last one guy moved, but he hurried right past her towards General Sung, and… some other guy who'd arrived while she'd been busy. The three of them whispered amongst themselves, so low that she couldn't hear.

Time to step it up, then. Oh, she would have some fun here! _Let's see, maybe I can clamp his hands to his head with a band of rock, and while he's staggering about trying to get that off, put a few pebbles under his feet, make him hop..._

"General," she heard the soldier plead more loudly. "Why don't we do as they ask? It'll probably be a short fight, and I'll make sure she doesn't get hurt," and when the general shook his head, "are you _sure_ this is a good idea?"

Something felt off about the intensity with which he said it. Toph examined the area, and realized that the onlookers were all focused sharply on General Sung, and they all had some level of concern tensing their stances.

These guys were professionals – she could tell. No way did they all get like this about the possibility of a fight. Especially not when they thought _they'd_ be the ones coddling _her_. Maybe they worried about how their incompetent general would do something stupid if they didn't manage to talk to him just right. Still, normal people just said "yes, sir" then rolled their eyes behind his back when the big man threw his weight around. Why did it feel like they wanted to protect Sung?

She'd find out. Without warning, she buried the soldier waist-deep. "Is talking all you're good for? Come on, if you can bend your way out of this, I'll fight you. Or do you just want to give up now?"

He shoved hard, and she had to brace herself, but he couldn't win. Mentally, she started counting down the seconds before he admitted defeat – probably would wait a bit, guys with reputations often did -

She found herself flat on her back, completely encased in stone. She strained to loosen the bonds, using her stomach muscles to push and pull the rock. She couldn't do much that way, especially with someone else countering her bending, but she could do way more than they expected.

The stone buckled away, and she found herself in a circle of grinning earthbenders. They were talking to her, telling her they were impressed, but she was already plotting her next move. As someone told her, "See, we fight as a team. One can be in trouble, but when we work together -" her earth wave knocked them all off their feet without disturbing the bystanders. Those who flopped back down, she pinned, and those who were quick enough to flip onto the walls or bend up platforms for themselves, she blasted again. A hail of boulders headed her way. She threw up her angular shield and let the boulders smash themselves to bits against that, then sent the fragments whizzing back at her opponents.

Unfortunately, they were quick enough to throw up earth shields of their own. Bits of rock flew back and forth for a bit, becoming progressively pulverized. Toph countered them all, but she was starting to flag because of all the rock fragments. The smaller they were, the harder it was for her to tell where they flew. She was winning, though, slowly but surely. Whenever even one small vibration that signaled an opponent's distraction reached her, she punched them off the ground with rock columns. She made a game of seeing how many she could launch through the air at once. (Two so far. They _were_ good, she had to admit).

One of them got in a lucky hit and knocked her down. As she twisted back up, she sensed Aang coming up on her left and Katara on her right. (Sokka, for his part, had scrambled up the cracks in the wall and was leaning out with his boomerang held at the ready. Momo rode on Sokka's shoulder, and he had a couple of pieces of rock in his paws.) They didn't interfere, though, not yet.

Once she dusted her hands of that guy, Katara's voice rang out clearly. "We're a team, too. If Toph alone could hold off all your people for this long, just think of what will happen if we all fight you. Think of what will happen when the firebenders come. Are you truly prepared?"

The members of the Terra Team took pause. General Sung's mouth opened and closed helplessly. When he finally found his voice, he said, "But this must be some trickery! I admit, you're a much better earthbender than anyone could have expected at your tender age -"

"She's the best," Aang interrupted. "That's why she's my teacher!"

The General hunched his shoulders. "As you say. Nonetheless, you're on our side! The firebenders can't possibly have anyone like you!"

"They've got at least one girl who takes away your bending," Katara said. "Who knows how many other soldiers with that skill they have? That's what we've been telling you – even with as much as we have learned, we still can't be sure they don't have more surprises in store. You need to take this seriously, now!"

"Yeah," Toph said. "Or you will get a _personal_ demonstration of unexpected bending."

"Toph!" Katara sounded scandalized. "We don't need to be threatening him!"

"I'm just telling him his options."

Katara crossed her arms, but said nothing. General Sung cleared his throat. "Hm, aha, let us discuss your plans if you wish it so much. I hope you realize that I am always open to suggestions." Again, Toph felt concern radiating from the soldiers, but low-level. They'd wait and see what happened. She'd have to do the same.

"Right," Sokka said with scorn, and jumped down to rejoin them. "Okay, let's do this."

It didn't take long for them to realize that the problem wasn't getting General Sung's attention. The problem was getting him to commit to anything. To all questions like how many bombs they might be able to get, or whether they could count on other units joining them, he would nervously declare either that he would check, or that he would ask his superiors. He wasn't lying about what he intended to do this time. He was afraid of thinking for himself.

"How do you get _anything _done?" Toph finally exploded. "If we didn't give you this information, you wouldn't know of the drill until it was right at your doorstep! You wouldn't have time to be doing all this checking and asking!"

"I trust my units," the general repeated. "Perhaps it's you who doesn't understand just how much of a barrier this wall represents? Even during the siege, there was always plenty of time. I have heard that even when the wall was momentarily breached, there were reinforcements to push back the invaders within minutes!"

"Let me guess," Sokka said. "You have no idea what kind of communication system they really had going back then. You just trust that the one you've set up is as useful!"

"Well, I have many of the veterans working for me. They have never had cause to complain."

"Perhaps we could speak with one of those veterans?" Katara asked, with the politeness barely masking her exasperation.

This somehow hit the General's limit. In many, many words, he told them no, they couldn't. Toph was at the point of yelling in the man's face (and Katara was at the point of not stopping her), when a female voice, in a very smiling, almost giggly tone, interrupted. "My, everyone is so excited! Is there anything that I could do for our esteemed guests?"

General Sung leapt to his feet and bowed. "It is an honor. Everything is fine."

"Who are you?" Sokka growled.

General Sung began to say, "She's from the palace. I sent a message -" but the woman's voice drowned him out. "My name is Joo Dee, and I will be your host while you are visiting our wonderful city."

Toph clenched her teeth at a rush of unwelcome memories. Joo Dee must be a popular name – the handler who followed Toph's parents around was called that, and Toph's own handler, Yoon, reported to her. Toph was not supposed to let people see her, unless previously vetted by her parents. So all her life, she was supposed to stay inside, or ride around in a closed palanquin, but most of the time, her various guards could either be shaken off or persuaded to allow her a bit more freedom. Yoon would never leave her be, not for a second, and insisted on helping Toph do everything, even go to the _bathroom_. Her parents had been _charmed_ by such "attentive concern." Everything Toph tried, that woman took as proof that Toph needed her help more than ever, and she never would shut up about the "wonderful city."

"From the palace?!" Sokka was excited. "We need to see the Earth King as quickly as possible -"

Joo Dee drowned him out, too. "I will be happy to assist you in any way! Now, let us begin our tour by travelling into the city itself. It is so nice and dry there, not wet like here! We must hurry, though, or we'll miss the next railcar."

Sokka shrugged and began to gather up his stuff. Just then, a soldier hurried in with a message for the general. On reading it, Sung blurted, "But this is from Judge Dao! How could he possibly have an interest in these matters?!"

"Oh?" Joo Dee inquired sweetly. "Is something the matter?"

"No, no. It is simply a message that the honorable Judge has been accosted by people who have heard rumors of the drill, and wishes to know what we are doing about the matter."

Toph sensed a shift in Joo Dee's happy-joy stance for just an instant. "You are more than capable of reassuring him on the subject, of course, but should you wish any help...?" she trailed off suggestively.

"No," Sung said hastily. "I will see to it."

They all followed Joo Dee out. Throughout the tour, Toph hunched her shoulders. The handlers must get some pretty strict training to all sound like that, she thought. The intonations, the phrasings, the overly-cheerful, scolding voice – it was like being a child again. Of course, she was much older now, and she was the Avatar's teacher, and a great earthbender...

But as Sokka's attempts to get through to Joo Dee all failed, and he began to voice his frustration more and more loudly, Toph, who ordinarily would be the first to join in, found that she still couldn't work up even one coolly defiant thing to say. Not when she knew how it'd be met. She told Sokka to get used to being handled, and endured the rest of the tour in sulky silence.

After they were brought to their new house and told they'd have to stay at least a month, and that they'd have an escort every time they went out, Toph finally got mad enough to snap that they didn't need a babysitter and head for the door. And – she didn't know how it happened, but Joo Dee stepped in front of her, with another of those meaningless phrases, and Toph found herself stopping again. If it had been a matter of fighting, Toph would've plowed right through Joo Dee. Do that, though, and their application to see the King would "just so happen" to be lost for another month. Or worse. All with that horrible voice droning on and on and on.

So they stayed in for the moment, to get some privacy from Joo Dee, and tried to come up with a plan to see the Earth King earlier. Toph told them again how things worked, and how little chance they had, but they remained way too optimistic. Sokka declared that since they had to stick around anyway to find out whether Sung really could handle the drill, they had time to explore and find an in somewhere. "What if there are secret passages? We'll need an earthbender to find them," he challenged her playfully.

She hid the beginnings of a smile in a shrug. "Fine."

"Also," Aang said a little hesitantly, "maybe we should ask around about Appa. With so many people coming into the city, maybe someone's seen him, or heard something." Who could say no to that? None of them could.

Lastly, Toph brought up the soldiers' weird behavior. Katara suggested that since Sung really didn't want them to talk to any veterans, that was who they should find next, which wasn't a bad idea. When they spilled back out of the house to begin exploring, even the looming presence of Joo Dee couldn't make Toph go back in.

* * *

><p>The rain wasn't the reason for Zuko's curdled mood today. When he'd first gotten back to Uncle, he'd been – well – soppy. Clingy. He'd reported the carefully edited version of events. (In that version, Toph had still confronted him alone, this time simply because she'd noticed him skulking around with her earthbending skills. He'd had no problems convincing her to listen to him, and she didn't mind hiding the true source of her information from the Avatar, simply because of her liking and trust for Uncle). Then they'd just talked, about nothing of much importance. Nonsense, all of it, but in a surprisingly short amount of time, those horrible things inside him began to settle. Then Uncle somehow figured out that Zuko's conversation with Toph hadn't been quite as peaceful as all that and started to probe.<p>

Zuko, who didn't want to revisit the memory of Toph's little putdowns, had tried and failed to deflect those suspicions. So Uncle got some crazy idea. He even dragged Azula into it. He said – Zuko didn't want to think about what Uncle said, because he could feel his anger building towards another explosion. Of _course_ everything was his fault when innocent little girls were involved. And afterwards, that lecture on rudeness! Zuko had only gotten out of that one by shouting down the attempt and storming off. (A spark of guilt prompted him to think that maybe he shouldn't have said _all_ those things to Uncle, but he quickly extinguished it.)

He hadn't gone far. In fact, he'd had to come back within minutes, because there had been a patrol up ahead. (He absolutely hadn't twitched in irrational panic when he couldn't warn Uncle instantly; what was wrong with him?) Uncle had acknowledged his return with a severe look, but _finally_ stopped talking at him.

The silence should've been helpful – a lot had happened in three days for Zuko to think about – but it wasn't. He'd start trying to figure out how he could fulfill his responsibilities to the Fire Nation, and he'd flash onto the memory of Aang's courage and despair (had he really done the right thing, teaching the fire meditation?), and get a painful flash of his own moment of despair. Without warning, his thoughts would switch to that awful yearning he'd just developed for his father to have been different and career onwards to thoughts of how he'd just been flailing all over the place in everything he'd done recently.

He needed to figure out what to do next, but whenever he tried, he got ever more muddled, and so frustrated with himself he could scream.

"Are you okay?" Uncle asked. He'd asked that several times already. Couldn't he come up with something new to check whether Zuko was still ignoring him? (A horrible thought struck Zuko. Uncle might now expect Zuko to have inane conversations more often, because of that thing earlier.)

Zuko couldn't even hold on to a consistent misery, because a lot of what happened was far from miserable, and he was getting very tired of the way his emotions were jerking him around. With his nosy, mercilessly teasing uncle right beside him, he couldn't shut out everything else for a bit in favor of daydreams, either. But at least, sudden swerves towards nicer feelings when thinking of Mai were understandable. When thinking of other people – less so.

Well, why shouldn't he acknowledge that they had their good points? They did! They didn't even mind him being a firebender – he just couldn't get over his astonishment at that. He himself certainly minded that they weren't from the Fire Nation, and it was not quite pleasant to realize that he was coming off worse by comparison, when he should've been a good example of everything the Fire Nation had to offer to the other nations. They liked him, they said so – so perhaps they did see him as that good example he should be. Yet he knew they weren't looking at him as an example. They weren't awed by him. Lifelong pride took a blow at the realization, but…

There shouldn't have been a "but." He didn't quite have words for why there was. Despite all the uncomfortable questions churning around in his mind, he was still quite sure that he was the prince of the Fire Nation, the best nation in the world, which he was bound to protect in every possible way. If that involved making strategic decisions, he couldn't afford sentimentality. He'd made that mistake three years ago. Never again. If he had to betray someone's trust to succeed, he could feel bad about it all he wanted, but he'd still do it. Had done it, just now. Just because it would be best for the Fire Nation in the end, just because he expected it to result in the smallest possible losses, didn't mean that the soldiers from the drill caught in the crossfire wouldn't still be injured or die. As he'd expected, the Avatar had gone for making plans that didn't involve any face-to-face fighting, and Zuko hoped that having a plan for a fair fight would ensure that the Avatar would not go into the Avatar State, but who knew what would really happen?

So he wouldn't let any foolish ideas interfere with capturing the Avatar after this particular crisis passed. All the same, when he thought about what happened this morning, he felt similar to the way he did when he'd thought his father had changed his mind after three years. (Why did Azula always have to be like that? She drove him crazy, but this time, she'd offered to help – with payment, but she implied she might… no. He'd do it himself! He didn't need anyone or anything.)

It just bothered him that his interactions with them were so easy, despite Toph's interference and having to remember his persona. There hadn't been a transition, he suddenly realized. He'd been playing his role with them, and now he was himself – and at no point could he remember making the shift. Frantic, he tried to remember what the transition had been like the time before this one. The memory couldn't be found. Maybe he'd just done it quickly, automatically, because he'd had so much practice. How could there be no transition at all?

"Are you okay?"

"Stop with that stupid question!"

Uncle sighed impatiently. "Prince Zuko, just tell me. You've looked unwell all day."

Zuko looked down at the rain-slicked path. Of course Uncle noticed. He knew Zuko well, after all. (Katara's words intruded again, _"If he hasn't seen you in years, he doesn't really know you.")_ And Zuko knew his uncle pretty well, too, from his habits to his personality, even if Zuko would never understand the way Uncle thought. Zuko didn't know nearly as much about his father, despite a lot more than three years together. Everything just twisted up inside him, until he didn't know what to say. "Just thinking," he said through a tight throat.

"Heavy thoughts, it looks like," Uncle said mildly. "Anything I could help you with?"

"No," he snapped. What _could_ Uncle say? "It's just a lot of confusing stuff."

"The tangled web of the spiderfly is a trap for those who fly into it, but breaks at a gentle touch."

"Uncle," he growled. "No. Proverbs."

"I only mean to help," Uncle said, with injured dignity.

"Yes, I know, proverbs are wonderful, but piling them on me when I'm already confused is not the way to help!"

From the corner of his eye, Zuko saw Uncle smile. "I'm glad to hear that you see their value even occasionally. Proverbs are merely the distilled wisdom of all who have had to struggle, just like you, and you would do well to examine the solutions they have found."

"Well, I doubt anyone was proverbing about this situation!"

"What situation is that, nephew? The one with Azula?"

"Amongst other things," Zuko muttered.

"Perhaps no one has had your exact experience, but you are hardly the only one with difficult familial relationships." Uncle tugged at his shoulder so that they'd face each other. "You need to know that you are not alone."

"I said, drop it!" Zuko turned his head and kept walking. Those words… useless, anyway. If Uncle wanted to get into the city so much, fine. They'd spent enough time on that that abandoning the plan now would be a waste of time. Though he still didn't trust Uncle's optimism about going there.

Was the city really safe, even? He still didn't know if that thing he'd imagined his father might do was even real. Azula's reaction suggested… what? At the time, he'd interpreted her remarks as clear confirmation, but the more he tried to focus on what she'd said, the less certain he became. She talked like there was a plan – but she always talked big. Like now, wasting time and people on a project that would weaken the Fire Nation even if it succeeded. As little as he wanted to, he probably needed to talk to her again. Find out more about the plan. She'd be near-impossible after having suffered a defeat, but she couldn't dismiss him again.

Why did he feel so sure that the Avatar would be able to stop the drill? Azula was a prodigy with everything else – why not military strategy? Maybe he'd made another horrible mistake, and shouldn't have been working against her.

He still needed to ask questions of the Avatar's group, too. They'd tell him what they thought was the truth, because they… or maybe not. Maybe after they had time to think about it, they'd decide that trusting a firebender was too much.

Thoughts of Avatar Aang were uncomfortable. _"He isn't better than me,"_ Zuko kept thinking. The new Avatar was childish, and irresponsible, and a perfect example of why the Avatar scheme should not exist. And yet, Zuko couldn't get away from the thought that the Avatar was handling the loss of his home and all his people, not gracefully, but a lot better than Zuko himself could do. Just a few months after waking up with nothing, look at how far he'd gotten. The Avatar didn't get any of this by deliberately tyrannizing people with his powers. He didn't even ask outright for much. He worried about repaying the smallest debts. Now he had new skills, people who supported him in everything, and a new life.

The Avatar had never led anyone to their death.

_Well, it's only a matter of time, the way he's going!_ Zuko argued with himself. _But he hasn't_, the acrid thoughts wouldn't leave him alone. _Maybe that's why people actually want him to succeed._

So what if no one on the ship cared about finding the Avatar? So what if Uncle kept telling him to give up? Who cared what those losers thought?

Another couple of hours of unsuccessful attempts to sort out his runaway mind passed. The distance between the wall and the lake's shore was getting smaller, less easy to hide in. The tall spikes of rock started to smooth out. From a height, if he squinted hard through the blanketing grey of the rain, Zuko could now see the gate's location, where the land was reduced to a gently-sloping small ruffle around the wall.

A sense of presence announced itself. While Zuko was still sorting through what to say first, he suddenly felt a heavily stinging sensation on the back of his head. _"What was that for?"_ he screamed internally. A few images of the past few hours, many of them from his fight with Uncle, plus a sense of inevitable/obvious flashed through his mind. Zuko didn't get it, but he understood being made fun of, and yelled a number of the worst expletives he'd ever learned on the docks in retaliation. A memory of himself having once said, "Well, it was worth a try" was the only answer. He kept up the mental yelling until he ran out of steam. Then, angry and humiliated, and working hard not to be afraid because he'd just remembered who he'd been yelling at, he waited for the Blue Spirit's reaction.

There was no immediate punishment, but Zuko knew better than to relax, especially when he couldn't make sense of any of the flickering images. He pleaded that he would make that offering as soon as he could. A strong sense of misgiving accompanied an image of agreement, but the presence withdrew.

Bitterly, Zuko reflected that the Blue Spirit didn't expect much of him, like everyone else. Well, no. His father still did. Whatever parental shortcomings Zuko might have overreacted to this morning, that remained. For instance, those times at firebending practice. His dad used to give him tips, every once in a while. Point out a weakness in Zuko's stance. Demonstrate what a move should look like. Not often, of course. Zuko had been given plenty of teachers, and the best firebender in the world couldn't afford to waste his time on a not-so-talented beginner. So it meant all the more when his father would take notice anyway.

(So his father had known exactly how unbalanced any fight between the two of them would be.) Never mind that. The point of the Agni Kai hadn't been for Zuko to win, but to demonstrate his strength, and he'd failed. (A familiar misery washed through him at the thought, but something Zuko wasn't ready to name also made his fists clench for a second.) Still, the way his father acted… Maybe it made him a bad son, maybe he shouldn't be trusting his own judgment, but he wanted to figure out on his own why the explanation he'd been given didn't cover everything.

Zuko wondered – would his mother, at least, be proud of him? He'd never given up because something was difficult, just as she'd liked to see him do. He thought that it might be enough to make her smile, at least. _Stop that_, he told himself. There was no point in getting ahead of himself. She might not even be in the city.

A memory of his father, standing at the pond with his back to Zuko, floated into his mind. He'd begged to be told what happened, and been rebuked. Azula just laughed at him, and the servants shrugged their shoulders. Zuko pondered uneasily how Father told Uncle the story of an illness. Why lie? Loyalty prompted him to consider for a moment the idea that it might somehow be true, but even the newborn, fragile cynicism of his thoughts was enough to overturn such an unlikely possibility. Maybe his father was just too proud to admit that even he didn't know what happened. That would explain the silence, the visit to the pond Mom loved, and the lie. Only, that prompted another question. If even he didn't know, then why hadn't he tried to find out?

This wasn't the first time such a question had occurred to him, Zuko realized.

"Hide!" Uncle hissed.

Zuko startled. No one was yet visible on the road, but there was a faint sound, like someone talking too loud. Instantly, he dropped to the ground, then wriggled into the nearest semi-sheltered hollow he could find. Mud squelched and soaked through his clothes, but that would only help the camouflage. Weren't they too far south for Fire Nation patrols by now? Best to take no risks, anyway.

"And stop bending your body temperature! Your lack of focus affects the heat's boundaries, so anyone who gets too close will feel warm."

Zuko scowled at the reminder of how thoroughly his already-tenuous skills had been disrupted, and obeyed. Rain and mud instantly felt a hundred times more irritating.

After the danger passed, Uncle got on his case again, to ask why he was so distracted that he hadn't spotted the group himself. Embarrassed, Zuko muttered, "It won't happen again."

"I can keep watch for both of us, if you need to rest," Uncle said very gently.

_You're the lazy one, not me_. It would be unfair to bring that up on a day of so much exertion, though. Come to think of it, Uncle had no trouble keeping up. "I'm _fine_." After a moment, an odd sense of guilt prompted him to ask, "You?"

A sly smile flashed across Uncle's face. "Sure. A little mud never hurt anybody!"

"What? Where?" Zuko's suspicions were confirmed when his attempts to wipe his face and hair just made Uncle laugh. "Stupid old man," he muttered under his breath, then cupped his hands in the hopes of gathering enough rain for a wash.

"No, leave it," Uncle said. "It makes you less recognizable. If it washes off too much before we reach the gate, you'll just have to reapply it."

If they hadn't been in Earth Kingdom territory, Zuko would've spent some time fireblasting random bits of the roadside. As it was, he barely restrained himself.

Uncle consoled him after a minute, "It's not so bad. We'll be there soon."

"Just in time for Azula to capture the city and find us," he snapped back.

"Take it from someone who used to be a general before he became this 'stupid old man,'" – Zuko winced – "even should she break through the wall, she doesn't have enough support troops. Her expedition can only be a test of the drill's effectiveness. Even if it succeeds, she'll have to withdraw and have more made before mounting a serious attack. A lot of things can happen in all that time."

"You mean, if we manage to develop plans of our own," Zuko said flatly.

"Well, of course!" Then he turned his face heavenward, and recited with all seriousness, "In the spring, flying/ Nervously through the rain drops/ Meadow butterbees."

As with all Deeply Meaningful things, Zuko couldn't get past the ridiculousness. "Whoever wrote that has obviously never been out in the rain. Do you see any insects here?"

Uncle just laughed. "Nephew, you don't need to take everything so literally. You also are a bit young to be making proclamations about the world. If you ever went out in scattered, light rain instead of preferring to stay in your room, you might see a few."

Zuko gave him a look by which he meant, _I'm glad I'm not like you._ Whatever butterbees had to do with anything, the reality was, they were being soaked to the skin with cold, driving rain. He couldn't be like Uncle. Could he? He thought about it for a long time, and came to the conclusion that he really couldn't. _I don't want to be laughed at. I don't want to pretend to be happy. I want my home and my destiny, not this life of hiding. Uncle can be content under any circumstances – well, so long as he has tea – and I don't want to settle for that. I want to _change _my circumstances._ Strength and honor were the two qualities he needed to cultivate, and so he would.

When he thought of that, the image in his mind was of his father's strength, unshakeable and reliable. For honor, the image was fuzzier. He realized that most of the examples of someone acting with great honor that he'd witnessed were of his uncle. That was a deeply uncomfortable thought. Anyway, he decided, the point was whether he could live up to those ideals that he saw represented, and whether he had what it took to redeem himself.

Uncle had counseled giving up so often, Zuko had lost track. When Zuko failed, Uncle didn't say much, but it was clear he often doubted Zuko's ability to do better.

Zuko swallowed against the hurt these thoughts brought up. Uncle did love him in a way. He tried to teach Zuko all the time. He worried because he didn't want anything bad to happen to Zuko (_"I'd protect you with my life."_) What more could anyone ask for? It was ungrateful of Zuko, to criticize his uncle. Hadn't he counted on his uncle's presence to make him feel better? He did, very often, and although it was embarrassing, he even looked forward to Uncle's attempts at comforting.

His thoughts tangled into confusion again, because how could it be, that someone could love him and yet not want him to do his best? It didn't make sense. If you loved someone, you cared enough to push them in the right direction when they needed it.

The rain finally tapered off shortly before sunset, but they were still quite wet when they reached the gate. This was the most nerve-wracking part, as outside guards were the ones most likely to recognize them as Fire Nation fugitives, or at least to be suspicious enough to question their claim of being native refugees. They'd talked about how they'd carry it off before. _Keep your head down, _Zuko recalled. _If nobody looks closely, they'll just assume we're from the northern part of the kingdom, where everybody's on the paler side. It's lucky that I'm built more like a typical earthbender than a firebender; that'll help. Your eyes give you away, but only if you give people reason to look closely enough to notice. Don't stare at people. Don't call attention to yourself. Be humble and respectful._

_And if that fails, we're both of mixed heritage. Use anything you can to be convincing. Your scar… you understand?_

The guards listened to their story and looked at their documents with an air so detached that Zuko was sure they'd be attacked any minute. It didn't help that he had to keep his eyes downcast. He kept wanting to look up, to assess the threat. When the guards made an opening in the wall, for a brief moment, all of his senses screamed that they were about to be immured alive. He had to force himself to step through. They ended up in a giant stone chamber, yet his skin still crawled as if someone was going to grab him at any moment.

A giant banner overhead "welcomed" them. There were booths at the far end, and more guards at the doors, and the whole thing was echoingly empty.

"So, no one's going to notice two refugees," Zuko whispered sarcastically.

Uncle nodded genially to the guards who stared at the two of them. "I'm sure we're not the only ones to arrive by ourselves."

"Look at all this. They can't possibly need this much space. Are they trying to be intimidating or something?"

Uncle stopped for a moment to look at him. "Nephew, they do need it. Don't you remember what our friends told us? At least one ferry-load arrives each day."

Zuko took another look around. This whole space, filled every day? It seemed impossible.

Uncle's horrifying flirting skills got them through customs relatively quickly, but then they were shuffled from one room to another to receive a bewildering array of papers, ink stamps, and stone tokens. Finally, the smell of wet earth made Zuko think they'd gotten out from under all that stone, but no.

Where had they ended up now? It was like a round tunnel, except with arched, shadowy alcoves that broke the curve of the walls. There were many benches to sit on, all set away from the several-feet-deep, sharp-edged groove carved straight down the middle of the tunnel. A fair bit forward of where they stood, Zuko could see a number of refugees. Several were lying down, while others sat around a blanket, preoccupied with some kind of game. Lamps that burned with a weak, green-tinted light made everyone look sickly.

A solitary guard oversaw the room from his sprawl on a bench. When they came closer, he stood, asked, "New arrivals?" and before they could even nod, rattled off a speech. "The next railcar into the city comes at dawn. Your immigration token is good for one trip to the lower ring. All other railcar tickets must be purchased in the village. You are allowed to sleep inside the station tonight, so long as you do not make any trouble. Exit to ground over there. All visitors may not leave the village perimeter. Curfew is in an hour. Welcome to Ba Sing Se."

In perfect agreement for once, Zuko and his uncle turned to head for the exit, in hopes of finding someone who might actually explain to them what a railcar was and which of their many documents was supposed to serve as the ticket, or answer any of their questions, really.

From the top of the stairs, the lit area below was surrounded by vast dark fields. The arches that supported the rail marched off in a long, thin line towards the east, where the sky glowed with untimely light. After a few blinks, Zuko realized that he could see the outline of a wall beneath the glow, so it must be just the combined effect of many, many lit windows seen from afar. Capital Island glowed like that, one night when they'd been late getting back from vacation. Zuko swallowed against a wave of homesickness, mixed with anger. That sight had been one of the ways he'd liked to imagine coming home.

A number of buildings, connected by more stairs, jutted out from the side of the great wall. Guards in two different sets of uniforms could be seen moving there, but no one else. Zuko made note of the military security in the back of his mind.

Down on the ground, in the loose circle defined by a scattering of huts, a whole crowd of people were out, and judging by the noise, enjoying themselves, despite the hour. As Zuko and his uncle made their way down, a fight broke out.

One of the combatants, a young man with a pair of hooked swords, was giving the other, a burly guard with a pike, a lot of trouble. His style was very interesting. Despite the pike's longer reach, the swordsman dodged deftly, yelling something all the while. Soon after, he caught the pike shaft between the hooks and tried to wrench it away. It almost worked, and he obviously would've kept trying until he succeeded, but then, more guards arrived. One managed to grab the swordsman from behind, and his fellow guards took the opportunity to pin his arms and relieve him of his weapons.

In the relative quiet, Zuko heard someone pleading with the swordsman to calm down, but couldn't see who was talking. He shoved his way through the crowd, curious. The swordsman continued to struggle and yell something about "How dare you?! They burned down our entire village! How dare you tell me to forget it?!"

One of the guards sighed and put a hand on the swordsman's shoulder. "That's enough. Whatever happened out there, in this city, you're not allowed to disturb the peace."

"The war happened! It is happening! Are you stupid? Where do you think all the refugees come from? What about her, why do you think she's missing an arm? Or him, you think he got that scar from a waterbender?"

Zuko startled to hear himself mentioned.

The guard just said, "We're going to take you in for the night."

An old man with a long braid pushed his way forward. "A minute, now! This boy works for me! How am I supposed to keep him on if he can snap at any moment like today? I'm not losing one of my best workers because you just want to throw him in jail instead of _actually_ helping him!"

The guard sighed resignedly. "We know your views about keeping the peace."

"It's your job. You'd better!" The old man looked around, then waved to someone in a flowing uniform and a conical hat. "You! Dai Li are supposed to help newcomers acclimatize!"

Then why hadn't Zuko seen any of them in the gauntlet of bureaucrats inside the wall?

"An unfortunate oversight," the Dai Li said with a bow. "We'll do everything in our power to repair the damage." To the guards, he said, "Let's go," like an order, and oddly, they let that pass.

The swordsman kept struggling, but it didn't do him much good, as the guards simply dragged him along. Two other teenagers, one short and one tall, attempted to follow, but were warned off. That made them pause only long enough to let the guards think they'd won; then they followed anyway.

"Kids!" the old man yelled after them. "If you go out this late and fall asleep tomorrow in the fields, you won't get paid!" Since they didn't pause, he muttered, "Ah, you're no great loss. Your friend now, I hope they straighten him out quick. He knows his farming." He sounded oddly satisfied.

"Straighten"? Zuko might consider the local definition of treasonous talk deeply stupid (as the swordsman said, the evidence was _blatant_), but he understood using jailtime as a method to contain troublemakers. How could a mere welcome committee override it? Was this the equivalent of being let off with a warning for the first offense? Then why was everyone playing the offense _up_ instead of _down_? So he asked, "What'll the Dai Li do to him?"

"Oh, talk him down, talk him down." Zuko's skepticism must've shown, because the old man cocked his head. "What? I did the same when I was a young man. Came into the city all full of myself, bent on making trouble. Look at me now! I'm a respected member of the community. Own my own house, and even have a little private piece of land. So I try to give the young ones a good start. Good fortune should be shared."

He did seem hale and hearty, and the way he talked to everyone just didn't seem possible for someone who'd been starved or beaten into changing his mind. Still, something about him rubbed Zuko the wrong way, and unusually, Uncle didn't jump in to continue the conversation. They found people willing to sell them some food and wash water, and even some tea (Zuko just about lost it at Uncle's carelessness in heating it, but the slip didn't bring any disaster down on their heads). The locals weren't very chatty, apparently because they had to explain the basics to far too many refugees far too many times, but Uncle managed to get their most pressing questions answered.

They returned to the station afterward. Zuko tossed and turned as he listened to the regular snoring beside him. Uncle told him that he should think things through more, and for once he'd have liked to, but it wasn't working. He needed a fire meditation, now. It galled, that something he'd just taught the Avatar, for reasons he could only hope wouldn't backfire on him, was something he himself couldn't use. If he could just slow down all these racing thoughts, he could reflect on every fact and argument properly. Just because he always had trouble with such things when put on the spot didn't mean he couldn't do it if he got some time! He had proof; he did a much better job of inventing a cover story when writing instead of speaking… there was an idea.

After moving beneath a lamp, Zuko pulled out his slate. It didn't help like he thought it would, because instead of sinking into the reflective state of meditation, he kept having to rework his thoughts into some semblance of shape. But once he wrote something down, it stayed written for him to examine, instead of slipping out of his mental grasp, and that was something.

At least, he figured out part of his planning problem. Instead of just one messy thing, two plans warred inside his head. One to capture the Avatar, and one to show him that the Fire Nation was good and fire wasn't something to be feared. They both seemed necessary; that was why he had trouble picking one. What about both? He had vague ideas of doing the capturing, and then spending time convincing Aang. His father would be satisfied, honor would be restored, and the Avatar would be let go when it was safe. But how to make that happen? And would Aang even listen in that situation?

He just wanted his honor back. It should've been simple. As Uncle said, you just had to admit your mistakes and seek to restore honor. If Zuko's father had thought that the dishonor of cowardice could best be mended by the courage it took to capture one of the Fire Nation's enemies, then it was not for Zuko to decide otherwise. _It is not the thief who decides the amount of restitution, but the one robbed._

Only, Zuko still couldn't quite make it balance. He tried until there was but a small stub of chalk left, and he was reduced to doodling randomly. Here was Zuko, scrawled in with a stick figure that had its head in its hands. Here was Firelord Ozai – another stick figure, only with five extra lines to represent the points of the crown (truth be told, it looked more like a cactus than a person, but Zuko ignored the way he should be feeling guilty for not drawing his own father with more dignity). Here were his despicable actions, represented by sharp lines plunging down, obliterating the character for "honor" he'd written earlier. Here was stick-Aang on a stick-glider. If Zuko could just get some sort of line to reel him in – he drew a connecting line as if stick-Zuko was flying a kite, and then another line to his father – then he could rewrite the "honor" character.

He looked again. For this to balance, Aang needed to be a thing, not a person. Some kind of honor-bearing device. Certainly not someone to whom Zuko could owe anything. Coin, not trader. But whatever Zuko drew, it wouldn't be that way.


	25. Off Path

A/N: 1) All my excuses/explanations for the lengthy delay between updates/medical things are here - maguena .livejournal (dotcomslash) 7495 .html - clickable link in profile.

2) I've lost track of what I've edited and which of my edits I actually uploaded. Sorting this out will have to come later. But I did _finally_ change the part in Ch. 24 where Toph comes off like an uncaring troll.

3) Special thanks to Boogum and SLWalker for betaing! All the remaining things wrong, are, quite seriously, my own.

4) As always, thanks to everyone with concrit to offer! Please let me know if I didn't credit you or respond to you, because I've been forgetting all sorts of stuff: Terracannon876, Gidon, Boogum, Opalalchemy, Charmed Ravenclaw, Weasel Fu, Anne Camp aka Obi-Quiet, YesNoPerhapsSo, Mafalda157, Claude, PoptartProdigy, Guest

5) On the good advice of Anne Camp aka Obi-Quiet, here's a summary to catch you up for this chapter, since it's been so long.

_Previously, on Blue-verse_:

When last seen, Iroh and Zuko had just cleared Ba Sing Se customs, but spent the night inside the railcar station, awaiting the first morning train into the city proper. They had been warned by White Lotus members not to mention the war in the city, and they witnessed the consequences of doing so.

Iroh had plans for a big gathering of WLS members inside the city. Originally, this was because he noticed the workings of destiny around the Avatar and wanted to take advantage of them. Later, he heard Zuko describe Aang's vision of the comet, and knew it'd be important. Also, Zuko confessed to him how Azulon, Iroh's father, really died, and Iroh wished, so far as it doesn't interfere with the bigger goal of saving the world, to promote Zuko to his allies as the next Firelord. Iroh has not told Zuko of the real purposes of this meeting, allowing Zuko to believe that they will merely rest and recuperate in the city – although he has alluded to recruiting more allies.

Zuko hid from Iroh all his activities as Blue, but when his most recent conversation with the Gaang upset him deeply, he was unable to hide that, and he lashed out in anger both at Iroh and at the real Blue Spirit. He also realized that there's something wrong about his idea that honor can depend on capturing Aang, but he has no idea what to do about it yet.

Zuko's past history of dealing with the Blue Spirit started three years ago, a couple months into his banishment. Until recently, Zuko could only sometimes feel a "sense of presence" while wearing the mask, which he usually shrugged off as his imagination. But a rather unpleasant encounter at the old Air Nomad sanctuary made Zuko more receptive to the idea of spiritual aid. He first attempted to hold an actual conversation with the Blue Spirit when waiting for Aang to get out of prison. At that point, he realized that certain images and thoughts that didn't seem to be quite his own really weren't – they were the Blue Spirit's way of talking with him. Since Zuko struggled to understand this method of communication, he hit upon the idea to make an offering to the spirit. Zuko even asked Aang's advice as the Avatar on whether it'd work. Aang in turn asked Roku, who said it should help, but warned that Zuko was particularly vulnerable to spirits. The main obstacle so far has been Zuko's lack of personally-earned money.

Meanwhile, the former crew of Zuko's ship, led by Jee, had been trying to address the rot within the Fire Nation Navy, by removing the bad/incompetent commanders. Since the problem went all the way to the top, as exemplified by Admiral Zhao, the only higher court of appeal was through a formal petition to Firelord Ozai. Thanks to their experience, particularly how they were punished as mutineers in the matter of providing help to the survivors of the North Pole disaster without waiting for orders, they were fully aware that such a petition would not be well received. Their hope was to secretly gain the support of the overwhelming majority of the Navy, so that by the time they were ready to make their petition openly, there would be too many of them for the Firelord to order all of them executed for treason if he hoped to still have a fighting force left.

As they worked on the big plan, they also tried to find General Iroh and Prince Zuko, who had been declared traitors. Nobody in Jee's crew believed that, and they missed Iroh (Zuko, not so much, but they'd become sympathetic to him since learning the truth of his banishment). They knew that Iroh's strategic expertise and widespread popularity would help their cause greatly, and that Iroh would not refuse to help them. Also, Jee had figured out Zuko's identity as the Blue Spirit, and thought that Zuko might have some expertise of his own to offer. But recently, they'd been given orders to report to the airship factory for patrol duty, where they'd be constantly under watch. In their maneuvering to delay reporting for duty, they'd sailed up to the Eastern Lake (the lake that refugees cross to enter Ba Sing Se, and which isn't completely controlled by the Fire Nation yet, unlike the Western Lake). There, they planned to use Admiral Misaki's longstanding request for more support (to deal with Water Tribe ships) as their excuse to linger in and search the area.

**Chapter 25**

The railcar passed through a tunnel set halfway up the wall. Out of habit, Iroh noticed both the potential weak point and the guard balcony above it, then chuckled at himself. Preparing for a campaign sharpened the senses, but he'd miss the new openings if he got caught up in old architecture. Dim lamps flashed by quickly, hypnotically; then the great city opened before them. Iroh pressed his face to the window eagerly, catching glimpses of colorful fabrics or weather-beaten wood structures in between all the white stone houses that wedged up against each other.

Crowds jammed the station's platforms. It seemed that people here often worked far from where they lived, which Iroh found unusual, but impressive. The streets outside weren't as packed; still, the noise was overwhelming after their past few weeks of relative solitude. Iroh looked forward to getting used to it. The city was a marvel, orderly and neat, able to provide for everyone who came to it. This was the place of refuge for everyone whose life changed violently and unexpectedly. This was the city of second chances.

Zuko looked much less distraught today, though he still scowled and didn't quite keep up his end of the conversation as they walked. Iroh wished dearly he knew what caused yesterday's fit, but he was less worried now. Zuko could never hide for long anything that perturbed him so badly. It was best to let him blow off some steam, sulk and mutter, and eventually, come around to revealing all.

"I think we're here!" Iroh said at the third market east of the gate.

"Why did we come all this way if you're not even sure it's the right place?" Zuko's voice rose.

Iroh gave him a meaningful look. "Hush. It's safer not to have an exact location. Remember, those who know how can always find a friend!"

Zuko grimaced. "That again."

Iroh sighed. Getting Zuko to understand the Society would take time, and since Zuko couldn't attend the meeting itself, chances were high he'd just brood. Maybe it was best to split up. "Have you seen any signs about rooms for rent?" He let his worry show. "I hoped we could stay in this area, so as to be close to our friends."

"No, but there don't seem to be people living in the streets, either. The city must not be as overcrowded as it looks."

In the end, Iroh asked one of the vendors, who told them that there was plenty of newcomer housing, but far away. More importantly, it sounded like a barracks-type setup, which Iroh liked, except for the part where more people meant more chances their cover would be blown. Here, they could try their luck, but the vendor sounded doubtful.

Animation sparked through Zuko's sullen teen attitude. "I bet I could find something. Anything in particular we need?"

"Well, not a hovel!" Knowing Zuko, this was a very necessary caution. "A kitchen, a bedroom or two – we can share if we have to, but you need your space. So don't worry about price too much. We can borrow money until we get on our feet." He also listed a few other things he wanted Zuko to scout out, and perhaps buy, and told Zuko to meet him here when done.

Zuko turned to go, then paused. He looked directly at Iroh for the first time all morning; looked away again. Then all in a rush, he said, "Would you tell me something?"

"Hmm?"

"Do I have the ability to be honorable?"

Iroh adjusted quickly. "Of course!" They'd been through this a thousand times, it seemed.

Sometimes, Zuko could be reassured easily, but today, he shook his head in frustration. "No, I mean, the… uh… capability. Not just trying all the time but… honorable enough to always do the right thing."

"Yes," Iroh repeated firmly.

Zuko scowled. "Are you even listening? I don't need your platitudes! I'm asking what you really think!"

"That _is_ what I think."

"Forget it." Zuko turned to go.

"I must say, it doesn't seem sporting, to have my own nephew call me a liar."

Zuko faltered. "I didn't mean it like that. Just…" His shoulders hitched for a moment. "Never mind. What you say doesn't change whether I'll succeed."

Iroh figured out what Zuko really meant. "You've never really considered failure an option."

"It's not!" Zuko flared, confirming Iroh's suspicions. Zuko wasn't ready to give up his quest – but he was no longer denying the possibility.

"Then your capability depends on whether you remember that there is no great honor without small honor."

Zuko gave him his usual scorning, uncomprehending glare. "Fine."

His nephew just didn't have the knack for figuring things out sometimes, so Iroh elaborated. "A magistrate is widely honored for being completely unbribable, and all his judgments are scrupulously fair. Yet when he takes his payment for a case, he often adds just a few more silver to the sum than he is owed. He reasons that he deserves to take far more for all his hard work. What do you call that?"

"Pathetic."

"That may be. He cannot be called truly honorable, either. Even such small acts diminish him, and the chances increase that he'll eventually succumb to greater dishonor."

"You sound like no one can ever stop working at it."

"Yes, but it's not _such_ a difficult work! Every attempt to be honorable increases one's capacity."

Zuko's eyes widened. "Is that so?" The desperation to hear yes was obvious.

"Yes," Iroh said firmly. "You have always tried hard and done rather well. You just need to think more carefully about consequences."

A smile quivered on Zuko's face for a moment; then youthful pride reasserted itself. "Well, why didn't you just say so in the first place?!" Zuko strode away, a lightness in his step.

Iroh shook his head fondly and went to seek his Pai Sho game. The player said that a new arrival such as Iroh would surely need new furniture, and pointed to a shop entrance nearby. Inside, high, jumbled piles of everything from storage baskets to paintings did a good job of casually blocking sight. At the back, inside a small office, three men had arranged themselves into the very picture of old friends gossiping the day away over a Pai Sho board. Like himself, they cultivated an air of men softened by age, which concealed so well what lay beneath. Iroh gave them the pass phrases and his name.

There was a long, tense silence. Finally, one of the three stood up. Wrinkles creased his forehead so deeply that the skin around them looked puffy. "I'm Shanheng. We were told to expect you, of course."

A second man said that he'd "signal the others" and slipped out. The last man fixed his bright, leaf-green eyes on Iroh and introduced himself as Wu Li (the 'Li', he claimed, was only added to distinguish from others with the same pseudonym). He didn't move. At this, Shanheng dipped his head with a smile that mixed fondness and exasperation, then went to yell to someone that he was taking a customer to the warehouse. Once he returned, he opened a space in the rock of the floor to reveal stairs.

"We cannot hold a large meeting here," Shanheng explained as he led them down. "The Dai Li would suspect us immediately."

Those were the people who took away the boy with the hooked swords. They must have power to take others away, as well, and they had the Society worried. Iroh made note to find out more.

Shanheng paused at the bottom and asked, with all politeness, "Might you provide a little light?"

Iroh appreciated the reassurance that, for all the past history between their two peoples, they would not refuse to let him work with them as a firebender. Though perhaps Shanheng also thought that if Iroh were the sort to attack his hosts, then he'd have to extinguish that light before forming a fireball. Such courteous caution was also very commendable. Lastly, he knew they were challenging him to place into their hands freely what the Fire Nation had often taken by force – safety. After all, the two of them, both likely earthbenders, could try to ambush him underground. The obvious nature of the challenge made him sure that they would not. Dishonorable men would hide their hostility and ask for no proofs. It would take time to show his changed heart to the people of the city he once tried to conquer and burn. Iroh was glad to pay any price to make amends for his past and start earning their full trust, and this was a very small price they asked.

He lit a flame; Shanheng bent the hatch-door closed. They walked through a series of caverns, some opening into each other naturally, and some connected by uncomfortably narrow and twisting tunnels. Columns and spiked draperies of rock limited their sight, but the fantastical shapes and the dancing shadows gave form to unique beauty. It would be easy to get lost, but Shanheng walked ahead confidently. (Wu kept behind. Iroh could feel the chilly assessment between his shoulder blades). As they walked, Iroh did his best to break the tension with his usual stock of cheerful conversation. Shanheng responded to that, and proved to be a man of much sly humor, yet there was an undeniable reserve beneath his explanation of the group's current situation. Wu said nothing.

Shanheng mentioned that name again as he detailed that there were several "safe houses," that they took care to arrange themselves into small groups with minimal contact between groups, that they were working on a larger hiding space near the outer wall to house incoming members but progress was slow because they had to keep hidden…

"Are these Dai Li a troupe of camelephants?" Iroh exclaimed. "It sounds as if they squat in every road that you wish to cross!"

Shanheng laughed a little. "Yes. Their mandate was to preserve our culture. They have instead weighed down the balance of the city towards themselves, and festooned everything they could with the long ribbons of 'culture.' If it seems to you that we take great care, it's because we must, to avoid becoming tangled."

Iroh tried to ask more, but Shanheng cut him off. "We cannot risk them knowing how much we know of their secrets. All you must do is never let them question you, and never underestimate them. They cut down our Lotus nearly to the roots once, and we have been scrambling ever since to regrow without dying."

"When did this happen?" Iroh questioned sharply.

"Soon after –" Shanheng visibly adjusted his words, "– the Fire Nation withdrew from the siege. It was expected that some officers would resign, whether to live down their disgrace or because, with the siege's end, they wished to return to a more peaceful life. Yet the changes were more profound than that. Too many people were replaced, and too many of the old leaders suddenly developed an aversion to ever leaving their houses."

"Ah," Iroh said.

"The Society at the time wished to know what happened. We had well-developed ways of doing so. Yet one of ours was arrested – for suspicious loitering. Within days, the Dai Li devastated us. They knew where we were, they knew our plans, our secrets… they missed only a few people in their sweep. All that saved us is that no one fears a flower. They think we are just one more group that is jealous of their power."

Iroh silently absorbed the sobering information, then said, "I will take great care. But why has this never been mentioned? If I had known of your difficulties, I would not have sought to add to them with my plans."

Shanheng's tone sharpened. "We may have regrown in the darkness, but for those who have maintained the balance in all things for centuries, one city's group of upstarts is nothing. We are perfectly capable of protecting those who come here. I admit, my own enthusiasm probably has more to do with the desire to get out of this holding pattern than with the plan itself. Your campaign-planning and strategizing have earned legends, but there are still too many uncontrolled factors. For all the excitement of the Avatar's arrival, no one has even _seen_ this young Avatar in the city yet. You _will_ have the safe gathering-place to which we gave our word, and anyone who wishes to join your campaign will not be hindered. Then, if you can deliver on your promises, we can risk more."

Strange, that the city Society was so cautious. Their part was to be the base camp, not the striking force. The key source of power for the Fire Nation was its money. The war had long since ceased to be profitable, but the colonies made up for that – _if_ the money made it back to the homeland. The collected taxes had always attracted everyone from resistance fighters to pure soldiers of fortune, but the Fire Nation guarded the boxes well (in part, by disguising the shipments as unimportant, barely-guarded other cargo). Even one bad month meant short tempers at the capital, political infighting, and a Firelord whose attention was distracted.

Iroh had detailed knowledge of the secret drop-off points and the short periods those points would be unguarded. He'd used that knowledge before when the Society needed money, but he'd been hampered by the need to appear a harmless retiree rather than a center of trouble everywhere he went. A concerted campaign of multiple attacks in multiple places, timed well, would result in very large gains for the least possible loss of life, and give the Avatar the best chance of success when his destiny brought him to face the Firelord.

True, much depended on how quickly the Fire Nation realized it was a campaign rather than bad luck. In the worst case, traps and countermeasures would appear after only a couple of runs. Iroh had some ideas on how to disrupt communications before they started, but he knew this was the weakest part of his plan. It could only be worth the risk if the end of the war was in sight. Iroh's lifetime of experience suggested this was the time, but he could not blame others if they had not that hope after their lifetimes of experience otherwise. So he answered Shanheng's warning lightly. "What, just because the edge is an untried one?"

Wu finally spoke. "Oh, because of destiny also. We have made our gains with our hands." He shoved a hand past Iroh's shoulder – the glove was rolled down to reveal thin lines tattooed around it. "We've no use for bones and yarrow, and no use for false prophets."

The memory of the last time he'd seen such lines softened Iroh's voice. "Neither have I! Fortunetelling is a slippery fish. Still, one does not need any touch of the weird to know that the breezes of destiny become storm winds around the Avatar. All we need do is use its force to power our sails."

The last days of the siege were vivid in his mind now. Iroh had come across a couple of guards, too new to know better, who stooped to dishonorable means to force one of the incoming prisoners to give up what he clutched in his hand, which had a single line around it. Some soldiers did it to honor their dead, while others bragged about their kills in this way. Because of the latter, any prisoners with such tattoos faced a great deal of anger from the Fire Nation. Iroh had stopped his men and chewed them out. When he saw that the object of contention was just a Pai Sho tile, and heard the desperate plea not to take away "the last thing my brother gave to me," he'd been even angrier.

"He could _throw_ it?" Iroh couldn't believe the miserable attempts at self-justification. "If he could defeat us with such a small thing, we'd deserve to be defeated. Is it honorable to take away the least of what a man has just because you can? No. He is our prisoner, but he fought bravely, and he deserves the respect we'd give our own warriors in unfortunate circumstances. Let him keep it!"

Of course Iroh had known that the tile likely had a second meaning besides a treasured keepsake from a brother. He'd already had a number of interesting conversations with various Pai Sho players by that point. It was an enjoyable mystery that he looked forward to solving sometime he was less busy. So he didn't seek out an opportunity to speak to this prisoner, but when next he walked through the prison, the raspy voice asked him, "Have you known great loss then, General Iroh?" When Iroh said no, there was rueful surprise. "I would not have expected such as you to concern himself with the small losses of other people, unless you knew what it was like."

Iroh had spent his life being not what people expected – in fact, half of his interrogations went so well simply because people who'd braced themselves to withstand torture and horror were often entirely unprepared to deal with respect, humor, and fine tea. Which was all for the best, as far as Iroh was concerned. It wasn't in him to be what they feared. So long as he got results, no one looked too closely at how he got them, and Iroh could then meet and get to know many fine people. Even before he understood the complete worthlessness of the war, he understood the value of that.

On that night he didn't want to remember, he'd put an end to the siege and ordered all the prisoners released. Through the haze, over the noise and his own yelling ("Who cares where they go? We're done here! _My son is dead!_"), he didn't quite hear the generous words at first. When the halls were almost empty, he felt the tile pressed into his hand. When he'd stared blindly at it, the man told him to meet him at a certain place. Offered to help. Said that he knew about loss.

That was Iroh's official introduction both to the White Lotus Society and to the possibility of entering the Spirit World while still alive. He'd never do less than his best for the people who reached out to their enemy.

Next, they had to squeeze underneath what looked like an overhang but actually was the beginning of a passageway. Once Iroh could stand again and let his chest and belly expand freely with his breaths, Shanheng whispered, "Don't make noise. When I tap your shoulder, flash your light in sequence with the taps."

Iroh did so. A double flash answered. They waited. A sudden swell of sound began to press upon Iroh. Somewhere between a moan and a hum, with an overlay of staccato thumps, it seemed to come from up ahead, but every time he tried to pinpoint where exactly, it played tricks with his ears.

"Eerie, isn't it?" Shanheng said, still quiet but not whispering. "I think this one's just the hourly update signal. It won't be much longer."

As it faded, Iroh rubbed at his ears to make sure it was gone. "What in the world makes that sound?" he voiced his irritation. Then, more practical concerns kicked in. "What purposes does this signaling serve? How do you –"

Shanheng sounded lightly smug. "One at a time! Karez wells are ancient technology from the period when the Water Tribe and the Air Nomads lived together. They store mountain runoff water underground. Sound travels far through them, so there have always been ways to make use of that. As near as we can tell, the Dai Li have found some method of refining the range and direction of sound even further by the strategic cultivation of the glow crystals that grow here naturally. We've spent quite a lot of time trying to crack their code, though with limited success. We're pretty sure they're unaware that anyone has done even this much, because they never change the code."

"But that is – it must be a complicated code indeed, to withstand being sent so openly."

A new voice, somehow familiar, spoke from the darkness. "Yes. Quite unlike anything I've ever encountered."

Jeong-Jeong stepped into the circle of light cast by Iroh's hand. "General Iroh," he bowed. "It is good that we can meet again."

Iroh found himself grinning and bowed deeply to Jeong-Jeong. "He who was among the first to denounce your defection does have to acknowledge your superior foresight and wisdom. If you will forgive the rantings of a young man, permit me to say I am glad to see that you are still alive!" (Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his fellow Lotuses relaxing a bit.)

"I will permit that the Crown Prince and an able warrior would've been strange to extend much understanding towards a mere deserter." Jeong-Jeong smiled, and perhaps it was not an entirely happy smile, yet it truly held no bitterness. "I am glad for the strangeness of fate myself, sometimes."

"So am I, but what strange fate do you have here in the dark?" Iroh asked.

"I mark down the code and help in the attempts to decipher it."

Wu said forcefully, "He has been instrumental."

Jeong-Jeong shook his head. "Those before me have already determined that the basis of the code consists of five different tones with various lengths and overtones. They merely had difficulty marking it down quickly enough. All I did was simplify the notation. Did you know that the schools here don't teach music theory at all?"

Wu snorted. "Useless subject. One exception makes no difference."

Iroh couldn't resist teasing. "Music, useless? We must –" He broke off at the look on Wu's face and pretended he hadn't said anything. But switching his gaze to Jeong-Jeong brought other questions. The man seemed quiet and banked, quite unlike the fiery, fiercely principled leader that Iroh remembered. Long stays underground, without the sun, might account for that, and of course he could only admire the sacrifice if that were so.

Shanheng cleared his throat. "Wu, you really don't need to stay."

"Leave you waiting here alone? No."

Shanheng shrugged and joked, "All right, I guess we can use your help to pass the time while those coming from the Middle Ring get through the gate queues!"

Iroh asked, "Don't you all use these caves?"

"We would if we could," Shanheng sighed. "The walls have depth to equal their height, reinforced with metal and other anti-earthbending devices all the way down, and patrols check them often."

They moved into the meeting chamber. Aside from a rock slab table in the corner for Jeong-Jeong, it had only a few boulders to sit on. Water trickled down the walls, and the air was unpleasant. Furthermore, the meeting would be held in the darkness, so that none of them could see the others' faces. Only two tiny flames were permitted, one at the circle center so people could find their seats without tripping, and the other at the desk. Jeong-Jeong took his seat there, explaining that while he could not leave, he'd not be part of the meeting.

Soon enough, they could begin. The five new voices in the darkness had three names between them, to maximize confusion. They liked the plan; in fact, despite Shanheng's warning, they accepted it most easily of all the things Iroh had to say. Their insulation from the worst of the war had made it difficult for them to connect with or understand the work of White Lotus members outside their sphere, and Iroh reminded them several times that they would not act alone. Yet this also produced an evenhanded approach to the war, less distorted by personal loss. Iroh, who knew first-hand what striving it took to see old enemies as friends and equals, found their philosophical approach quite soothing. They weren't inclined to change their ways for a newcomer, yet they didn't dismiss his ideas. A space formed for him in their ranks. This generosity of spirit moved him, and he knew he could grow together with them, in time. Yet he still needed to know them, and disembodied voices were hard to know.

They'd finished discussing the plan, had been reluctantly persuaded to make contact with the Avatar, and had been working on the worrying news of the Avatar's vision. A short description filtered through Zuko's upset words wasn't the firmest basis on which to decide anything, yet they must prepare. However vast the comet's power, the Earth Kingdom was vaster. The dragons couldn't be the weapons this time, and despite many efforts, no one had succeeded in creating flying ships yet, so what would it be?

Iroh described all he knew of the technological advances of his nation. As he'd hoped, his fellow Lotuses had several ideas on how to counter them. They spoke of such things as channeling explosive forces with angled earth surfaces and of working in teams to amplify each other's powers. However, they'd need to spend a great deal of time training to be ready in time for the comet, and they still weren't convinced there was a need. Besides that, since they had a few firebenders to call upon who would also get a boost from the comet, perhaps something could be done with that?

This gave Iroh an idea. "Permit me a demonstration." He made a spark only to see the shadowy forms of his new friends throw their arms over their faces. He had to promise to make nothing brighter to continue. "See this rivulet on the wall? My hand is here at the bottom, but –" steam cracked off loudly "– the effect is greatest at the top. When I was at the North Pole, we would combine layers of bent water with this for great effect. If earthbending is added –"

"Geysers!" someone completed the thought.

Another added excitedly, "The reservoirs extend beyond the outer walls in places. We could –"

And they were off strategizing again.

"No!" Wu burst out. "What sense does it make to prevent the destruction of our city by letting _him_ rip holes in the ground?! He'll have to get his kicks elsewhere."

Iroh tried to point out the flaw in that logic.

Wu insisted, "The balance of fire is always towards the side of destruction. We have to counterbalance it, not give it reign."

Someone to Iroh's right made sounds of agreement while others shushed the man, telling him that this wasn't the time.

"Any decent man agrees!" Wu responded. "Isn't that right, Jeong-Jeong?

He answered quietly from his corner, "It's true we are cursed to always destroy, but we work every day to suppress it in ourselves. I am sure General Iroh is as careful as you could wish him to be since he switched sides."

Iroh's breath escaped him in a whoosh. What must Jeong-Jeong have been through, to speak this way? Horrified sympathy prompted him to reach inside himself, to the memory of the two dragons twining around the wind and colors that burned and cooled at the same time. With his hands cupped over his mouth, he breathed out the dragon fire it had taken him so long to understand. It came slowly, haltingly, in a struggle. After all, "Dragon of the West" was merely a nickname. Yet because he needed it, because it was his balance and his sunlight, and because fire was meant to be shared, it flickered into being. Too small to light more than the fingers around it, but multicolored and alive, it burned. He stood and walked over to give it to Jeong-Jeong.

The other firebender accepted with baffled skepticism. For a moment, Iroh feared that like Zuko, Jeong-Jeong would not be able to see the difference between it and ordinary fire. He relaxed at the sharp inhale and the way Jeong-Jeong bent down to study the flame intently.

As Iroh returned to his seat, an annoyed cough sounded from his right. "So. You talk about balance, but instead choose to amuse yourself with odd displays. This is no way to convince us of your usefulness."

Iroh had never been in the habit of explaining himself, and despite his best intentions, he was growing irritated. "Permit me to say that this was a necessary firebender matter, and then I will not take up more of your time."

"A firebender matter. Do we not merit your attention, General Iroh of the Fire Nation?"

Iroh answered simply. "I serve the balance. My past, I can only atone for, but my actions of the past several years should have proven the change in my loyalties."

"They did," Shanheng said unexpectedly. "It seemed too good to believe at the time, but… don't you see? If someone like you could change and want to work with the White Lotus, then we had more of a chance than we thought! Do you understand at all what it was to hear that in the highest reaches of the Fire Nation, someone was on our side?" His voice caught, and Iroh knew that just a few years ago, Shanheng had been a person worn down from the constant effort to resist, who lived always with the knowledge that the Fire Nation was slowly winning the war. Iroh couldn't help sympathizing with that.

Shanheng raised his voice, making it clear he was addressing the naysayers as much as Iroh. "I know you took great risks for us. The information you smuggled out – everything you did to slow down the conquest – all the times you had to sacrifice your pride and honesty for us – maybe it _was_ too much to put on one man. But others here have sacrificed just as much, so what we need to know is whether you are still with us."

"Absolutely."

Someone laughed. "You spent the past three years hiding. Don't think we'll take your bare word for it."

"You seem curiously misinformed. Yes, I left the council. I wasn't doing much good there, anyway, and I made sure to leave four good people in place who would do all that I could do –"

"Cheng Liu was arrested a month ago." At Iroh's stifled exclamation, the voice relented. "Piandao sent word that he's staying put for now, to see what he can do for her."

Iroh breathed deeply through his fear for his friends. "If anything can be done, Piandao will do it."

"To fix what was caused by your absence! How do we know you won't push off whenever you feel like it and leave us holding the bag?"

It went on like that. To them, his reasons seemed flighty. They would not believe that protecting and teaching Zuko was at all valuable. To them, one boy's life seemed an indulgence, and more evidence that he cared more for his personal concerns, or those of the Fire Nation, than for the balance. Iroh defended his nephew passionately, but when he saw it was doing more harm than good, he redirected the argument. He ought to nurture their growing trust before straining it. He'd just have to make them see Zuko in the proper light later. For now, he'd silence their doubts through action rather than words.

So he stopped talking, listened as they discussed their work, and tried to be helpful. His best opportunity came when he heard of their efforts to reestablish contact with the Upper Ring, lost in the fight with the Dai Li. They had been patiently working to place someone there, but even servants in the Upper Ring normally came from families who'd proven their loyalties for generations.

Since Iroh needed paid work, with a single effort, a dual advantage could be earned. "I'll get a job as a tea-maker! People are sure to talk about the quality. If you use your usual channels of gossip to quickly spread the rumors, we might catch the attention of some upper-ring visitor quite soon."

"Assuming you're that good," either Chen or Fu interrupted, "so what? Some rich lady isn't going to offer marriage to you just on the strength of your tea-making skills."

"Ah," Iroh sighed jokingly, "if one offered… But that's not what I meant. The wealthy compete with each other in many things, including who can show off the most exquisite taste. The significant thing is," Iroh held up a finger triumphantly, "tea cannot be served cold. Those aristocrats who wish to impress with tea _must_ invite the tea-maker into their houses. Once there, the tea-maker can look and listen!"

It was settled. Shanheng even knew of an understaffed teashop. As the tenor of the voices changed for the better with this new possibility, Iroh knew that it would be his honor to do all he could to restore hope to them.

On his way back to the marketplace, Iroh clutched a large pot of yellow flowers so cheerful, he was sure even Zuko would like them. Shanheng had let him choose what he liked from the warehouse, where they'd supposedly been all this time. Iroh would find a way to repay the generosity. He breathed in the loamy, comfortably subtle fragrance and let his thoughts roam just as his feet roamed. In his youth, he had dreamed of the city. The true dream of prophecy came only once, but when he'd been a young officer rising through the ranks, confident that he'd prove himself in this conquest, the arcs of the walls hung in front of his eyes waking and dreaming. For two years, he studied them like no other. A conqueror was what he'd made of himself, and paid the price of that – a heavy price for having misread his fate in the arrogance of youth. He'd given so many years of his life to thoughts of the city. The way that light reflected off the walls was an old familiar friend – and, finally, more than walls stood around him. Iroh, not a conqueror, just an ordinary man with a flowerpot, new friends, and a new job, felt tears of happiness touch his eyes. But he blinked them clear, because he wanted to keep looking.

* * *

><p>Washing dishes was the worst, Zuko decided the next morning. He disliked wiping tables, serving tea, and all the rest too, but at least he could watch his surroundings and listen to conversations. Sweeping was a lot more difficult than it looked, but he'd made some inroads into reducing the clouds of dust and the grumbling of the teashop owner. Washing, however, was done in the back room, involved no strategy other than "scrub harder," seemed endless, felt nasty, and resulted in stiff, pruney fingers that didn't even feel like his own.<p>

They didn't get much in return for hours of work, either. They'd be here forever at this rate, trapped at the shop every day from before noon till after sundown. Uncle had gone shopping this morning. Half of Zuko's earnings went with him – Zuko was willing to contribute more, but Uncle pointed out that the tea-maker was paid several times as much as the tea-server. "Let's both have some fun!" he said.

Zuko winced in anticipation at the stuff Uncle would drag back and expect Zuko to enjoy. Sure, Uncle had more than earned some fun, if he could just stop having it at Zuko's expense. Zuko glared balefully at the flowerpot – _"In case someone brings home a lady friend!"_ Of all the ways in which he'd like to meet with Mai again, like he'd ever bring her here! The city was a prison. Mai might be more comfortable with prisons than most, thanks to her family, but she deserved better.

Since Uncle remained impervious to serious considerations, Zuko knew he'd have to be the one pushing both of them home out of their latest predicament. He gathered that Uncle's friends were still thinking over whether to help them at all. So Zuko tried to calculate how long it'd take if they didn't waste their resources too much, painfully aware that he didn't know as much about thrift as he needed to know now. Food was always their biggest expense, and from what he'd seen of the prices yesterday, it would be even more so here. Uncle was talking about new clothes and furniture, and Zuko had to admit the campstyle life couldn't be over fast enough, but really, shouldn't all this be minimal? They had enough to do without complicating things. He ran through his task list again, then the much shorter list of things he could do right now, and decided he'd at least figure out how many days' labor it would take to make a spirit offering. He'd seen a shrine near the teashop yesterday.

The shrine grounds were full of overgrown nooks and crannies, so that he had to look sharp to avoid disturbing the other visitors. He wondered whether the tangled growth was an Earth Kingdom thing or plain neglect. When he finally found the sage, however, she enlightened him about all the offering types for different kinds of spirits with great enthusiasm. True spirituality, she emphasized, was meant to be a simple thing, open to everyone. Wealth could even a barrier to attentive honoring of the land spirits and the ancestors. The way she looked at him, he knew she could tell he was used to wealth.

On her advice, he bought a stick of plain incense and a cupful of sake with two thirds of his money. The low cost startled him, especially when she said this was _all_ he needed. Was she trying to _pity_ him, like the landlord yesterday? An angry flush flooded his face, made worse by how he knew he did look pitiful right now, with his fading bruises and unkempt hair. (He ought to shave it all off – it was getting long enough to soften the edges of the scar. But if he grew it longer, it'd start to hide his eyes as well.)

The sage remained steadfast when he challenged her. Maybe she believed her own words, but he'd been taught that the spirits judged whether you offered your best. Sure, maybe the royal family's semi-public seasonal rituals weren't the right pattern to follow here, but this offering looked far too pitiful. Zuko was uncertain enough about the Blue Spirit that he didn't want to appear stingy. Also, the Blue Spirit had been angry with him and, since then, completely silent. Zuko never enjoyed such silences. They left him with no way of knowing what was coming.

Yet the Blue Spirit would know why his offering was so unprincely, and too much delaying could also be offensive. Zuko compromised with a ribbon of thick green prayer-paper (which ate up the rest of his coins and his plans of thriftiness for today). He could even rent a prayer cubicle, with a bowl to hold the wine and the incense, for the cost of an hour's worth of pulling weeds and stirring a huge vat of something eye-wateringly fermented.

Once done, he ensured his privacy, hung the mask up on the wall, and, with jerky hands, set up the offering beneath. There was no reason for nervousness, right? The Blue Spirit _wanted_ to talk to him, and Zuko had just the one request. The Blue Spirit had been nothing but kind to him. But that in itself was odd.

Zuko centered himself as if for meditation, took a few cleansing breaths, and lit the incense. The wine burned off quickly, but the paper flickered and charred like a coal. He waited, struggling to keep himself respectful and spiritual and all the other things he vaguely associated with supplicants.

The sound of his own blood rushing in his ears became a low humming roar. The cramped shrine cubicle stayed dark, but he kept having the urge to blink, as if looking into bright light. The sensation of presence grew, and he bowed, hoping it was in the right direction.

"I just don't like. Talking." There was no actual sound, but Zuko heard the amused voice clearly. His preparations weren't good enough, after all.

"Sorry…" His own voice jolted through his ears. What more should he do?

"This –" the offering-items suddenly doubled in Zuko's vision, then the second layer dissolved "– is the proper method. You don't have enough. Spirituality. To make it work. But it gives me a. Path."

Something like a rockfall flashed by, with himself trying to dig through by hand and the Blue Spirit pushing through from the other side. Before Zuko could ask the Blue Spirit to just say what he meant, the non-voice went on.

"Words. Don't mean enough. I can use yours. Better now. But then too many others. Can overhear. And there's a cost. To both of us. Speak until. The incense. Burns down."

"I – I appreciate that." He actually got his audience with the Blue Spirit. Astonishing. He bowed low again. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands. His feet were slightly out of alignment. "Thank you for all the help."

A smile he could feel with his whole body. "So that's how you can be. Polite."

He flushed and burst out, "Well, I didn't get much chance to prepare for this! If I'm doing it wrong –"

Kindness. "I'm not. Concerned about that. You know."

The encouragement made Zuko relax enough to speak on a more even footing – "Then what does concern you? And what's the cost you mentioned?"

An image of the mask exploded in his mind with such force that he rocked backwards where he knelt.

The mask's few lines expanded into a face that wasn't human at all, yet had gleaming, intelligent eyes under heavy brows shaped like an expression of constant surprise. The body's shape resembled a panther-ram's; a concentrated force, calm. There could be very little to disturb a being of such power and agility. A place high up in the mountains, where few other creatures could reach.

Then the swooping shadow of a dragon.

"Spirit World. Paths. Have obstacles. Plentifully. But different ones. This world's. Paths. Can be shortcuts. Or." An image of sinking into a bog, complete with sensations of being pulled into squelchy ground.

Zuko gulped for breath, but nothing else followed. Cautiously, he asked, "So, you're looking for a good shortcut?"

A wave of soundless laughter pulsed through Zuko. "What do you think? You know of. What I did in the past."

He thought furiously, not wanting to disappoint. "Well, you're known for helping travelers. People who – don't know where to go. Where to find someone." He braced himself as he guessed, "Can you somehow move better through the Spirit World by helping people move in this world?"

The response took unusually long. "Close enough."

Zuko felt dizzy. "Then… what? You need more of…?"

"Change or die. Many spirits. Are clamoring for. Change right now." More strange images flickered. Some felt bleak. "I ask for. Their strength. To talk to you. But then, they want me to. Change your. Path."

Zuko jumped to his feet. "You mean my _destiny_?!"

"A destiny. Destination. To know where. You'll go. Before you set out. No one will give you that." For a second, the Spirit sounded oddly like his father. "However, you could. Take a step. To any side. Still end up on a path of destiny. If you wished. Many spirits. Would be glad to hear from you. The dragon spirits. Especially."

Zuko was staggered. He'd always wanted to know that no matter what, in the end, he'd do something great, be someone great – but this was too much. Faintly, he protested, "The dragons have all been killed. How… what would they want?" After a moment's thought, he added, "Revenge?"

"Dragon spirits. Can only fit themselves. Into dragon. Bodies," the Spirit answered, as if it should've been obvious. It wasn't.

"Uh, when they want to change my path…"

"I don't. Your path. Suits me well."

His future had to be a pretty good one, then! Giddy with relief, Zuko acted nonchalant, to learn more and make _sure_ it happened. "Which way's that?"

"As far as possible." Zuko would've taken it for a great compliment, but the Blue Spirit immediately added, "All the distant places." The map of the world drifted across the room.

Then it was obvious why the Spirit picked him. Most people didn't travel that much, and in the last century of warfare, who else could afford to range far – a pirate? Zuko deflated considerably.

"Being special. Is. That important to you?"

The question sounded, _felt,_ only curious, and Zuko answered honestly, if a little tightly, "Why not?"

Memories of his exploits in the mask flashed through his mind, and the Spirit continued, "It's good. But it's an easy. Good. Someone screams. And you don't have to think about whether. Helping them. Is right or. What happens after. You leave. This is not how I. Work." A pause long enough for Zuko to bristle. It wasn't _easy_! "People. Find a path. After much searching."

Even Zuko had to admit that by taking on the Blue Spirit's name, he had some responsibility not to wreck the Blue Spirit's reputation.

"You aren't doing _that_," the Spirit half-laughed, sounding like Uncle.

Zuko relaxed despite himself – felt oddly woozy, in fact – but he knew this would nag at him.

"And thank. Your uncle. Never forget." Zuko wanted to protest that he did already, but the feel of the spirit changed to disapproving before he could say anything, and an image of the Ocean Spirit appeared. "Water. Gives me strength. Now. Understand?"

The incense was already half-gone, and they hadn't gotten to the important things! "Not really. Is it time-critical?"

"No."

"Then I promise I'll think on it later. Right now, please tell me… since it's beneficial to you, too…" He gulped. "Where's my mother?"

"Is that what you truly want to ask?"

"Yes, it is! Unless… unless you mean that I should ask for the way back home instead?" Something spasmed in his chest.

The next words had an odd cast of sympathy. "No, your. Path. Can lead you to. Each. However, they lie in different directions. Each turning. Will take its own toll on you. Leave yourself enough. Strength. For both. Choose well."

"I want…" His throat locked up. He'd wanted to go home for three years, and that was the way he could help with the war. He'd wanted his mother back for six years, and it was a selfish sort of choice. But she had given him everything.

Without her guidance to fall back on, he knew he would've broken at some of the worst that happened. She had been living as a refugee all this time. Every day was a day she might be suffering. It was his duty to find her. Yet she might also be just fine, away from the place where she had been unhappy for several years before her disappearance. (How could she have disappeared so completely if his father had been searching for her at all attentively?)

There was only one way home. It _would_ take otherworldly help to keep the Avatar captive. It made him heartsick to realize that he didn't want to. Hadn't wanted to stuff Aang in a sack for quite a while. He had to, desperate enough that he was already imagining how he could hide the truth and pretend it was all his own doing. If he arranged for a spirit to do it, that was almost as good as cleverly using his superior skills in battle. Wasn't it? His father wanted results, and if Zuko got results, that would make anyone proud.

It was his responsibility to ensure the Avatar would be no threat to anybody.

None of his responsibilities could be put aside, no matter what. In the case of something as devastating as an Avatar's powers, or that thing he'd imagined his father to be capable of, it made no sense to try to save one person, even his mother, and abandon all the rest. So why wasn't it an easy choice? Because… oh.

He had the feeling that the Blue Spirit was waiting calmly for the decision. "One more question?"

"You may ask." The answer wasn't guaranteed. Okay, he understood that.

"It's not just one… There're all these other problems I've been trying to solve, and I thought everything depended on capturing the Avatar. But if I can have both, then what else can I have, too? Which way can I do the most good?"

Suddenly, the Spirit sounded like Azula. "You know that."

"I do?" Zuko glanced nervously at the incense. Only a short stub remained. "I do. Okay. What do I know?" He ran both hands through his hair, then clenched them there. Why couldn't the Blue Spirit just give him the answer? Why couldn't he figure it out? That was half the reason he wanted to return home – so he could talk to his father, with all his knowledge and wisdom. His mother couldn't possibly know anything useful, so he should put this reunion aside. Wait. If Dad listened, he'd either take care of everything himself or tell Zuko to just handle it already, and either way, Zuko would be left as in the dark as ever. Even when Mom flat-out told him she didn't know how to solve something, she talked things out with him until he got new ideas. Of course, with something this big, it would be best to let his father handle everything, so Zuko had no chance to mess things up. All the same, the Blue Spirit had implied Zuko still had a way to capture the Avatar even if he asked about his mother. If true, this was about his path, and what he should do to honor his responsibilities…

His honor. Uncle was right. What would his honor be worth if he cheated on the way to getting it? What would his mother say if he did that? Dimly, he was coming to realize how often he'd cheated already; the way he'd treated the people in his way, the stealing, and the deaths. He had to start doing better.

He and _no one else_, not even his father, knew the most about the Avatar. He was the only one who could get close to the Avatar and find out more. Only he could argue on behalf of the Fire Nation _to_ the Avatar. To capture the Avatar right now would be the easy way home, but it wouldn't be right.

"Right. Help me find my mother, please."

Smoke billowed up in the room. "Are you sure?" The non-voice now seemed to hiss through him, vibrating his very bones unpleasantly. "You're the one who. Doesn't want to be considered a child. Yet you miss her and. Need her like a baby."

He nearly quailed, but the injustice of the remark fired him up. "She told me not to forget who I am. She raised me, she taught me, she protected me – she made me who I am. Someone who grows stronger. Of course I miss her! I don't 'need' more from her, because I already have all that. It's the other path where I'd be a child who needs others to solve his problems. _I am her son._ I will honor whatever sacrifice she made for me, and I will never give up on her. I want to know that she's okay. I want her to be happy. Maybe she doesn't want to come back…"

"Doesn't want you for a son."

Zuko swallowed down fear. The Blue Spirit was just repeating a thought Zuko had before. It was a test. Spirits were annoying like that. "Maybe she doesn't," his voice broke. "Whatever she wants from me, I'll do it. If that's to go away, I will, but first, I have to find out!"

"You will find this. Path. More challenging than you know."

Zuko lifted his head. "I can take a challenge."

The vibration intensified to the point where Zuko could barely keep upright, but he hoped there was a hint of approval somewhere in there. "She cannot be. Found. Directly. Go there first." An image of the city of Ba Sing Se expanded in Zuko's vision as if he were falling from a height. Details flashed by: the palace, an unremarkable wing of the palace, offices of guards in flowing uniforms. With a nauseating wrench, the vision uprighted him and carried him along hallways so quickly he couldn't remember all the turns. Down, then down again, to a vast warren of scroll-filled shelves. The vision stopped at one neatly labeled shelf. It held questioning records from a particular date nearly five years ago.

The vision ended, and so did the physical sensations. Zuko picked himself up off the floor. He felt the spirit wish him well.

"Thank you." He bowed, still uncoordinated, then realized it was dark in the room. "Blue Spirit?"

No one was there.

* * *

><p>The need to spend time reinforcing their alibi grated on Jee. Hours had passed since the ship had docked at the field communications tower that served as Admiral Misaki's outpost on the southern coast of the Eastern Lake. After all their efforts, orders to investigate the Water Tribe should've been waiting on their arrival. Under the cover of that investigation, they could've ranged quite far.<p>

The conspiracy was becoming a real force, yet not nearly enough. Even though they stressed how it was all simple, idle talk about a perfectly legal petition, which they'd certainly abandon if the danger was too great, people still hesitated to even confirm they sympathized. Also, now that they weren't recruiting people they could personally vouch for, the danger of informers grew astronomically. If they went carefully, it wasn't a huge risk. It was one thing to suck up to those in command, and another entirely to suck up so much you'd be instantly removed from the reach of any "unfortunate accidents" after you blabbed. Still, to get their numbers up, they first needed to get their numbers up.

Two things favored them recently. First, two commanders had gotten into a drunken spat, using their ships to fire on each other. Sailors died, but the commanders only got slaps on the wrist. The crews of those ships were now among the staunchest supporters of the conspiracy.

Second, while there was always talk that something or other meant the spirits were angry, lately, those kinds of rumors had exploded. The Ocean Spirit's wrath had certainly been terrifying, and the waves _had_ been larger and wilder than usual, even after he took his death toll. Crescent Island proved to be no normal volcano – lava still flowed from it, never cooling and never stopping. As if that wasn't eerie enough, people had started to go missing when venturing near it. Between the missing and those who deserted before they could go missing, the blockade was disbanded. Then there was the drill's failure, and lights over the Painted Rock, and more of that sort.

Even though it couldn't all be supernatural, what if the old stories weren't _that_ exaggerated? If the spirits considered the Fire Nation fair game again, what chance did the ordinary soldier have? People were afraid. They called on the protection of their ancestors and tried to figure out what the spirits could possibly want. Jee had seen his chance. He spread the word that, just as the ordinary soldiers wanted certain commanders gone, perhaps the spirits wanted them gone, too. Ill-use of one's own soldiers quite often went together with disrespect towards the Spirits, after all. The claim was just outrageous enough to work sometimes. With all the rumors flying about, people became suggestible. Heck, sometimes Jee himself started seeing things.

For himself, he wasn't too worried. His grandparents had been even more superstitious than most of their generation, and had spent enough on charms and chants to overprotect him from anything except the real world.

So Jee paid more attention to how Prince Zuko had surfaced at the drill for no plausible reason. The nice touch of disabling the drill without injuring anybody left Jee with no doubts about who was responsible. Enemies of the Fire Nation would welcome the chance to kill whoever they could find. General Iroh, on the other hand, would never hurt his own people, and it was just like him to do something completely surprising, even foolish-seeming, only to make it obvious later that he'd been using some deep strategy with stunning success. It was them. In the four days since, they couldn't have gotten far.

Yet there was nothing to do but stare at the docks, where several ships were being repaired. Even the flock of cramingoes pecked lazily in the shallows. Hurry up and wait, as usual.

When they'd started, it seemed simple: make a list of the commanders to be removed and recruit enough support to be able to present that list. Yet who exactly would fill the vacancies? The Firelord was supposed to pick, but of course, he'd be open to suggestions, with this many choices to make. If they succeeded, they'd need four new admirals, thirteen commanders, and over thirty captains (the exact number kept swaying back and forth, because that was the position at which some of the conspirators grasped). There should've been no room for self-aggrandizement, yet it reared its ugly head.

The idea was to remove only the truly bad commanders – minimal disruption, and the rest would be kept in line by the threat of the conspiracy repeating itself. But even the thought they might finally not have to put up with this or that was too heady for some. More and more, people wanted to add someone to the list for small reasons, or for made-up reasons. Checking the truth of all these claims was a job and a half just by itself.

Another hour of kicking their heels passed before Jee saw an entourage on the dock below.

Admiral Misaki had decided to personally come aboard.

Jee hurriedly remembered who was supposed to be ranking officer and got the man to go and greet the Admiral and provide the Captain's excuses. It didn't help. The Admiral wanted to meet with the Captain, and they couldn't refuse her.

Jee quietly passed the word for Lo Tseng to hide any incriminating messages and Zhen to get ready, just in case. Jee, as the navigator and the notorious leader of a mutiny, was the obvious suspect when investigating why the Captain was not in charge of the ship's movements. He'd try to claim that no one else was involved. If he failed, the communications officer and the helmsman were the next two obvious suspects. When they'd discussed the what-ifs, Lo Tseng and Zhen both told him to give them up if it helped. The plan could go on without the three of them if they successfully averted suspicion onto themselves.

It was one thing to talk it out with your friends, and quite another to be facing the reality.

Jee tried to get some search-area markups done while waiting for the firestorm to begin, but he couldn't concentrate.

He was forty-eight. He'd screwed up his life several times over. Most everything he was proud of, he'd done in the past couple of months, and that could so easily still go wrong. He'd gone in headlong, as usual, and it was a good thing that most of the work of the conspiracy happened without his input. Still, he wanted to see this through, success or failure. Just to know he'd done everything he could to make it a success. For once, people would know they could count on him.

Another demotion? No, it wouldn't be anything so easy. Thankfully, he had no close family. For himself, he feared prison more than death. Death was peaceful. Helplessly sitting around in prison would drive him mad, he knew it.

At last, the expected summons came.

Admiral Misaki looked not much older than himself. Her short-cropped hair was still glossy black. Where he'd always managed to sabotage his own promotion chances, she obviously hadn't.

After his respectful bow, she inclined her head and gestured for him to sit across from her. "I know you're aware," she said in a startlingly deep, thrumming voice, "that this ship is a political leaky egg, owing to the small matter of the North Pole events."

He gave a short nod.

A crooked smile flashed across her face. "I've always been of two minds whether you showed more good thinking or more unthinking compassion that day."

That didn't sound so bad, yet.

Her expression sobered. "Neither you nor your men deserved the charges brought against you. However –" her tone sharpened and she leaned forward "– your past mistreatment does not give you the right to play about. Your Captain doesn't know where he is, who I am, or what day it is, for that matter. I'd suspect him of being a drunkard, but for that kind of brainlessness, he'd have to reek of it. A garden-variety fool, who didn't have the courage to put you in your place right from the start, that's who he is."

Jee tried to look surprised. "That bad? I knew he didn't have the first clue when he refused to leave his room and told me to go _write_ a report, but he concealed the extent of his confusion from us. I gave him his reports, and he approved all of this ship's actions since he took command."

"Yes, indeed." It was more disquieting than an accusation. "With his approval, you've brought yourself onto my doorstep. I'm sure you're prepared not to tell me why, so I won't ask. Instead, I'll let you know – I'm in charge now."

Jee became intensely aware of just how small this room was. Admiral Misaki was one of the four admirals they _didn't_ seek to replace, but right now, Jee could see the temptation to put her on the list. "You're quite mistaken, Admiral. I'm happy to tell the reason. Some of our crew have had experience in fighting the Water Tribe successfully, so when we heard of your troubles, we thought that this could be a good way to, ah, seal the cracks in the egg some."

"My troubles," she repeated thoughtfully. "Quite kind of you. I have no troubles that couldn't be solved by basic organization. Because of Admiral Zhao's need to show off, the fleet's in shambles, and this outpost is getting the worst of it. The dreg ends of supplies and the rawest of new recruits, that's who they send me after they've taken away all my best people. Because of Admiral Chan taking his well-earned_ vacation_ at this time –" she couldn't have been more acrid "– my division of the Southern Fleet has been sent all the way here when we could've been doing some actual work." She focused in on him. "So I do plan to make use of your kindness. You and your crew – Petty Officer Jee – not only survived the disaster yourselves, but were able to help those less fortunate. Those kinds of skills are always valuable, if properly directed."

He nodded cautiously. "It sounds like you have something in mind." _Please let it be the investigation._

"Tell me," she said, "how many combined years of experience do the six engineers on this ship have?"

He blinked and tried to estimate by subtracting the usual enlistment age from their ages. "One's about to transfer, so it's actually five people. Eighty or ninety years, I'd say."

"Your lieutenant couldn't answer this question for me, but you know your people. That's good. Even if their tendencies towards troublemaking and inadequacy halve it, that's still a good number. Now, my engineers – all thirty – would struggle to scrape up sixty years of experience altogether." She nodded with satisfaction at his shocked expression. "You can see why I'd be a fool to let all that experience go."

"As I said, Admiral, we place ourselves at your disposal." He tried some subtle flattery. "Especially since you seem to understand our situation so clearly."

"For a mutineer, you're very accommodating." She dipped her head. "The latest project that has been thrown in our laps is this: to create a controllable gate between the two lakes. It should've been an easy job – the only place ships can pass is a very narrow gap, and we control the Western Lake and maintain a good presence in the Eastern. However, between the lack of skilled people and a giant monster harassing everyone who comes near, not to mention the possibility that the Earth armies will once again consider it a valuable target when they realize what we're trying to do, we haven't accomplished squat."

She placed both hands palms-down on the table. "For this job, you can request any of our supplies and people, such as they are."

"So… you're trusting us. With something that big," he said slowly. This could be really good news. They'd be fairly close to the target area, and nobody ever expected a building project to finish on time –

"Of course not. I'm giving you the job you can't refuse, because you won't get a better deal elsewhere. I'll put a few of the people I do trust onto this ship, and I'll be very curious to see what they have to report." He couldn't make his face quite blank, and she nodded again. "Do keep your noses clean, obey orders, and we'll have no problems with each other. After that, we'll see."

This wasn't good. Could they hide the abnormally large number of messages this ship sent and received, never mind the actual content? They couldn't afford to go silent for long, either. This ship was the central hub of all planning precisely because they were so independent. Well, it'd take a little time for the spy to familiarize himself with the ship. They had a small grace period. Anyway, they really couldn't refuse. Not without risking a lot more than an unwanted job and a few spies to dodge.

He realized that the silence had stretched too long when she broke it. "Subordination has always been a problem for you, hasn't it? Here you are at last, Petty Officer Jee, without proper oversight. It's a sweet setup, and pardon me for breaking it, but so long as you are a Navy officer and not a privateer, you _will_ have to give an accounting of yourself. You may remain unofficially in charge aboard this ship; in fact, I'm sure it's better if you do. Do we understand each other?"

Hah, a privateer, when they'd been working so hard to reform the Navy? He had a feeling she understood that, too – not the plan, but that he remained a Navy man despite everything. "Yes, Admiral."

"You'll have our inventory list, construction preliminaries, and maps of the area within the hour." She stood up, gave him a small nod of acknowledgement, and swept out of the room without waiting for his response.

He followed at a discreet distance just long enough to verify that two of her people did not exit with her. He sent his own people to "help them settle in."

Meanwhile, Lo Tseng, Zhen, and himself rushed to gather up anything incriminating and either burn it, or stick it into hiding behind randomly-chosen sections of wall plating. No spy could possibly check the entire ship for this without giving them plenty of advance warning to move the documents. However, the seams had to be welded back evenly enough to pass inspection.

Once done with that hot, stressful work, they began to compose messages to the safest other ships. The problem was, none had all their crew in on the plan, or the level of freedom and lack of scrutiny this ship had until now. It wasn't even clear what would compromise them more; the known spies here, or the potential spies elsewhere. All they could hope for was to reroute things enough to avoid any suspicious-looking message flurries, but as they worked, they saw it was impossible. They added a quick explanation for the rest of the crew, complete with a request to write some "letters home" as a cover.

It still clearly wasn't enough.

"At least some of the hawks get told to fly to _me_, not the ship," Lo Tseng said suddenly. "Together with all this…" he swept his arm around to compass the three of them, with their half-baked plans and half-drunk tankards, "it could be enough. Right. Get me ashore. I'm gonna be senile enough not to get back on time for your sail-off, and wander away into the wilderness besides. If someone notices I'm gone, well, with your urgent orders, you searched for me, but couldn't wait up. I'll send my hawk with any news, and you send one back to me when it's safe."

"No," Jee protested reflexively. "What if the urgent stuff comes here, and you're the only one who knows where all else to resend it?"

"Wen's been backing me up pretty well in a pinch."

Zhen said what Jee feared most of all. "Look, are you Admiral Chan now? They'll force you into a dishonorable discharge for 'concealing unfitness for duty.' What'll you do then? You always complain about landlubbers like your daughter –"

"Just blowing steam," Lo Tseng cut him off. "She's all up in her farm, alright, but she'd always have room for her father. That's no reason not to do what needs to be done here."

He was right, but Jee still didn't want to be the one to approve this decision. For all his brave talk, Lo Tseng wouldn't do well if restricted to napping by the hearth, and a "dishonorable" meant he wouldn't see one coin of the pension he'd earned. Jee didn't want to be the guy saying "Okay, you don't matter so long as our plan goes well." The entire conspiracy was in place to prevent people saying that so often. Yet he couldn't deny that it had to be done, for everybody's sake. Lo Tseng had the right and the duty to do it, and Jee's waffling didn't mend anything.

There had to be another way, but they didn't have time to find it.

Lo Tseng said, "No gloomy faces. Prob'ly nobody will even miss me."

Jee struggled to respond to that, and finally found the thing he needed to say. "If any crap happens, you know you can always send a hawk to us. Not just about the plan, but about, well, anything."

Zhen sounded relieved. "Yah. Hey, if life on land gets to be too much, we'll come and smuggle you out to sea."

Jee knew he'd gotten it right when Lo Tseng joked, "No need to butter me up, I already agreed," and topped up their mugs.


End file.
